


Viper and Flame

by haugr



Series: Stories of Lustre [1]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Anal Fingering, Bathing/Washing, Collars, Cunnilingus, Dom/sub Undertones, Dubious Consent, Eventual Romance, Eventual Smut, F/M, Female Gaze, Femdom, Hair-pulling, Hand Jobs, Light Bondage, Love Bites, Marking, Matriarchal society, Men Crying, Nipple Play, Non-Consensual Groping, Non-Consensual Spanking, Non-Consensual Touching, Older Man/Younger Woman, Oral Sex, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Original Fiction, Political Intrigue, Porn With Plot, Porn with Feelings, Possessive Behavior, Sexual Harassment, Sexual Slavery, Shy Sub, Spanking, Submissive Male, Vaginal Sex, Woman on Top, Worldbuilding (if you squint)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-21
Updated: 2021-01-19
Packaged: 2021-03-08 20:07:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 15
Words: 93,390
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27132247
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/haugr/pseuds/haugr
Summary: By the third day of his imprisonment, Raum had circled back around to his initial conclusion: there was no way he could have foreseen this.
Relationships: Original Female Character(s)/Original Male Character(s), Original Female Character/Original Male Character
Series: Stories of Lustre [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2107713
Comments: 133
Kudos: 136





	1. A Strange Fate

**Author's Note:**

> I have time on my hands and nothing better to do. So I'm gonna write subpar femdom, and nobody can stop me!
> 
> I haven't written anything but term papers in ages. It shows, I know. I apologize. 
> 
> Enjoy? ...Mildly tolerate?
> 
> Porn's in Ch 3, part of 4, 8, 13... if you're lazy.

By the third day of his imprisonment, Raum had circled back around to his initial conclusion: there was no way he could have foreseen this.

Not the coup itself. That, at least, had been entirely predictable. Leopold had been a most resplendent king, but a terrible ruler. The man had done everything in his power to please his favorites in the court, and next to nothing for anyone else. This was typical of his ilk, of course, but most had the good sense not to flaunt it so. Raum's gentle guidance on How Not To Be Murdered By One's Subjects had been roundly ignored. His less gentle advice only caused tantrums. There had been no getting through to the man. And so, as he always did whenever things started to look untenable, Raum had made plans to leave.

He had assumed the peasantry's patience would hold at least until midwinter, and scheduled his eventual disappearance accordingly. Indeed, it may very well have done so, if things had developed as he had predicted. Unfortunately for Raum, he had made a fatal miscalculation: not just in the timing of the thing, but the direction.

"So," came a voice from behind, gravelly and hateful. "What are you thinking so hard on, viper? Not getting any ideas about escape, I hope."

Raum had known the guard was there, of course. There was always one there, sitting just outside his cell door. He was allowed no privacy whatsoever, lest he be Up To Something. Even locked up here in the deepest dungeon, shackled to the wall, and sporting a magic-suppressing collar that was several grades above what was needed to seal him, they were terrified he would somehow find a way out. Shockingly, he was allowed to face away from the door, towards the wall; he suspected this was more for the guard's comfort than his own, but was grateful all the same.

He smiled bitterly. He knew better than to answer; he wasn't allowed to speak to anyone lest he attempt to manipulate them. He fingered the loose, ring-shaped collar around his neck. He had been shocked to find a lack of speech suppression charms on it. An oversight? Or were they counting on his reputation to keep people from listening to him?

"You just watch yourself, wretch. We only have to keep you alive. Said nothing about keeping you in one piece."

 _So brave when I'm like this, aren't you?_ He stifled a laugh. He didn't need to give the man another excuse to beat him. He could still feel his ribs aching from this morning.

A chill raced down his spine. Yes, he was to be kept alive, and wasn't that strange, when Leopold himself had been cut down in front of him without a second thought? Kill the king, keep the wicked advisor? They had gone to extraordinary lengths to spare him, in fact. He had desperately tried to escape—had even betrayed his own principles and used his power against other living beings—and they still did everything in their power to take him in alive. Clearly, there were plans for him. If he had to guess, a public execution. Just the thing to shore up support for the new order—a great grisly show of force, where by lopping off his head, all that was wrong and ugly in the world would be vanquished. Raum thought that the King would have been a better sacrifice—more to the point—but he supposed he looked more the part.

The upper classes and their aesthetics. _Obnoxious._

Another voice, similar to the first, called down from above: "Alfred! Get him. They want him."

Raum froze. A great void seemed to open in his chest. Even with his knowing what was coming for several days now, he wasn't exactly prepared.

"Right," said the guard, rising from his chair with a pained grunt. "Get up. Don't make any sudden moves. Behave yourself and maybe you'll live a bit longer."

Raum briefly considered causing trouble. It wouldn't really buy him any time, but he wasn't sure he wanted to see what he was wanted for, either.

"Bastard, didn't you hear me?! I said get up!"

Before he could respond, Alfred(?)'s large, meaty hands were upon him. He was unceremoniously hauled upright, and stood on shaky legs as not-Alfred rushed to unlock the chain keeping his shackles anchored to the wall.

Probably-Alfred yanked him back from the wall from by his hair. His involuntary hiss of pain earned him an even harder yank. "Remember what I said, you filth. One wrong move. That's all the excuse I need. You understand?"

Raum swallowed. His voice came out fainter than he would have liked. "It doesn't sound like they are expecting a corpse."

Not-Alfred, clearly the brighter of the two, just managed to catch his fellow's other hand before it attached itself to Raum's throat. "Let him go, Alfie. He's in enough trouble. We don't need any of our own."

 _Yes, let me go, Alfie._ he sneered internally. _So sorry to take your toy away from you._

Alfred's only response was to haul him around to face the door and violently shove him. Weak as he was, Raum did manage to catch the edge of the doorway mostly with his hands, and only partly with his face.

"Get in front of him, I'll stay behind. Don't take your eyes off. "

"Alfie, hes not gonna run. He's all chained up, n' he's got the ring on."

"Yeah, well, I don't trust him. He's got ways, all his kind do."

Raum vaguely wondered what rumor about him the man was referring to. Were necromancers known for being escape artists? Ghouls? Vampires?

Not-Alfred walked through the door, muttering. "You have to make everything complicated, don't you?"

Raum, sensing a murderous intent from behind, decided it would be better to behave. He pushed himself upright from the door frame and followed as well as he was able. He knew he wasn't going to like whatever he was about to walk into, but it had to be better than Alfie.

* * *

To his shock, he was not marched to a gallows or a chopping block. There was no crowd of bloodthirsty onlookers waiting for him, or, indeed, anyone about at all. The palace grounds were strangely empty for the time of day. No courtiers, no guards, no servants. Even the typical fauna of the courtyard were curiously absent.

He cast covert glances about as they walked. Given just how bombastic the night of Leopold's death had been, he had expected... Something, at least. Anything. And yet, both inside and out, not a thing appeared out of place. No evidence of artillery fire, though he was sure he had heard some. No scorch marks from the high magic he knew for certain he had seen. Nothing.

As if it had never happened.

They came to a halt outside the queen's old study. Apparently, whatever was to be done with him was to be done quietly and out of the way of everyone else. A low murmur of voices could be heard from within. They fell into silence upon Not-Alfie's rapping upon the door.

"Prisoner here!"

The door opened a crack. What Raum assumed was a maid peeked outward; it hard to tell from one eye and a couple finger-widths wide worth of uniform on display. "Is it him?"

"How many prisoners are you wanting to see today?" Alfie muttered behind him.

The eye's gaze, suddenly baleful, jerked to the source of this comment, but found Raum instead. "Oh!" she chirped. Then, in a more nervous tone, "Oh. Oh, oh no."

Raum frowned. He was used to that kind of reaction, of course, but it seemed especially insulting now. Given the circumstances.

Alfie grunted. "What?"

The maid's voice dropped just above a whisper, "You brought him up here looking like that?"

Raum's frown deepened.

"Like what? That's what he looks like. Born like that. Probably."

This was all very unfair.

"You--" another murmur from inside brought the maid up short. The door quietly closed again, and more murmuring followed.

Not-Alfie turned to them, brow furrowed. "What he supposed to look like?"

Both guardsmen regarded Raum with irritated confusion. He crossed his arms as well as the closely linked shackles would allow, feeling absurdly self-conscious. Judging it unlikely they would harm him here, out in the luxuriously appointed hall, he indulged himself with some venom. "Perhaps you should be been more circumspect in your beatings. Delighted to know I'm not the only one in trouble today, however."

He was spared any retaliation when the door opened again, fully this time. The maid stood to the side, and a third guard—a woman of the elite guard, not typically seen outside of the royal apartments—stepped out. She frowned at his captors. "We'll take it from here. Be on your way."

The men hesitated for a moment, but did so, grumbling. Raum's mood lightened to a deep charcoal gray. Whatever happened to him now, Alfie wouldn't have the satisfaction of seeing it. It was the little things in life.

The elite guard regarded him levelly. If she had any opinion on his current appearance, she kept it to herself. "Walk inside and kneel before her. Slowly. One wrong move and I will run you through. Do you understand?"

Raum swallowed nervously. He didn't doubt it. He had seen the extent of their talents first hand. Very recently. "Understood."

"Good." She moved to the other side of the door, opposite the maid. Her gaze didn't leave him as he passed her.

Raum walked inside. He hadn't made it in but three or four steps before he was stuck fast by a gaze so much sharper than any sword.

Princess Dorothea—now Queen Dorothea, he supposed—was not a beautiful woman. Plump and mousy, with dull gray eyes and even duller ash-brown hair, the woman had been destined to fade into the background from birth. Raum himself, meticulous as he was in keeping track of the various relationships in the court, had a tendency to forget the eldest child of the royal family even existed.

And yet... It was she. The point of the spear that had run the kingdom through. Where even the terrible Red King of the West had failed, Dorothea the Gray had succeeded. A coalition spanning class and region both within and without the kingdom, built up in silence, over a period of only a few years... Well, there was no way to defend against such a thing. Even the elite guard of the palace had been under her control in the end.

That Raum hadn't caught wind of this ahead of time... He wasn't sure if he should be ashamed or not.

"Raum," said Dorothea, pleasantly.

A low growl from behind startled him out of his reverie. He slowly sank to his knees—less out of fear of the guard and more due to his legs failing to get reacquainted with the concept of movement. He attempted a smile, but knew it came forth as a grimace. "Your Hi—Majesty, so good to see you alive and well."

She stared at him, impassive. Unlike her father, she was not given to great shows of emotion. Any shows, really. Raum forced himself to remain outwardly placid. He didn't think she had inherited the man's temper, but he also hadn't thought she had it in her to destroy a kingdom, either, so why not be cautious? "I hope that I can be of some service...?" he hazarded. He wasn't dead yet, and she had wanted to see him, alive, so there was hope.

Her eyes flicked about his person, lingering where he assumed his recent abuse showed most strongly. She sighed softly and looked away. "Raum. I am... I have no patience for courtly games. Let me get straight to the point."

He started. Her tone was short, exasperated; apparently she could show emotion, and that one read decidedly negative. He swallowed again. "Of course, Majesty."

She was silent for a moment. Thinking. This did not comfort him in the slightest. "You had no loyalty to my father."

The chill was back. Listening to a brand new despot ponder his loyalties seemed like a terrible time for his nerves. "Ah, that is--"

"--Or the crown. Or... Well," she rested her chin upon the back of her hand, still staring at the wall. "I suppose you did have some loyalty to the country. In your own way."

He became very still. He wasn't about to interrupt her if she was going to assign him good qualities.

"You were a useful asset to our family. A shrewd advisor. A competent alchemist. A valued mage. Yet... You cannot be of use to me. I need loyalty. You cannot give it to me. And so, you are relieved of your duties to my house."

Well. He had assumed. Three days in the dungeon and all that. Still terrifying. So terrifying, in fact, that he found himself unable to say anything in response.

"That said," she continued, "I have no animosity towards you. I won't say you were ever a comforting presence in this house, but I have no reason to dislike you."

"D-delighted to hear it," he croaked. He didn't like where this was going. He knew what the peak before a drop looked like. "Am I to be spared, then?" he asked, before he could stop himself.

She lapsed into silence once more.

Panic overtook him. "I—I'll leave. As you say, I have—I don't want revenge, or anything of the sort—I will never darken your door again, I'm not—" he cringed at the sheer neediness in his voice. What had he become? The Viper of the court, begging for his life. So many of the King's favored would have loved to see this. Had they still been alive.

She turned her head to look at him, and her gaze cut him short. "I believe you, Raum."

Hope surged in his chest. "You do?"

"Yes. However..." She trailed off. "I have debts to pay."

It died. The void was back, and swallowed it whole. "Debts," he echoed, hollowly.

"Debts. Loyalty is not cheap."

Was... Was she going to turn him over to someone? An old enemy, perhaps? He combed through his memories, trying to find someone who both wanted him dead and was still alive. Most of them had perished days ago, but...

Unless...

He felt faint. Anywhere but there. Anywhere. He'd rather die. He couldn't go back there. This court—it couldn't compare to _that_ one. Here he was _the_ Viper, but there he was only one among many. He had only survived because he left. If he were sent back—if he had to face them again—face _her_ again—

Wait. _They_ weren't part of Dorothea's alliance. They couldn't be, their presence would have been obvious from the start. They didn't do secrets, or subtlety. He closed his eyes and willed himself to calm. It couldn't be them. It couldn't be.

So who?

She suddenly let out a sharp, angry sigh. "But I can't present you looking like _this_."

* * *

From the moment of her birth, nothing had ever gone Dorothea's way. Not completely. The coup succeeding had been the one exception, and she suspected it would stay that way for some time yet.

So, when Mary had suddenly shut the door and whirled around to tell her "He looks terrible! Absolutely awful," she had only sniffed in response. _Don't hurt him, make sure he bathes, and keep him fed and watered_ had been too daunting a list to follow, apparently. Fine. Just another irritation to deal with, among many others. She wished this one thing, at least, had gone well.

She waved to Mary to let them in. Nothing for it now.

Rana, perhaps sensing Dorothea's frustration, went to assist the little maid. Dorothea felt a rush of gratitude for the woman. Rana had been assigned to her personal guard nearly twenty years ago, and every day since, she had proven her worth. A pillar of sanity and strength among her father's idiot court and her deranged kin. One day, she would repay her. She swore it. _But today, there are other debts to think about._

She had expected Raum to saunter into the study as he had always done, with a mild disdain for any happenings within and a clear determination to leave as soon as possible. Instead, a vaguely Raum-shaped thing lurched inside, clearly favoring one leg, only to suddenly stop and stare at her in shock.

She fought back a sigh. He really did look awful. His black, shoulder-length hair was a snarl at the base of his neck. His complexion had always been worryingly pale, but now looked ashen and dull as well. His patchy facial hair made plain why he had always preferred to stay clean-shaven. Bruises from the collar and shackles encircled his neck and wrists; more, without clear explanation, ranged across his face. The only part of him that looked like the Raum she knew were his eyes—sharp and calculating, shining brightly over larger than usual dark undereye circles.

Ah, she had been staring. "Raum," she greeted him.

He offered her a sickly smile as he slowly sank to his knees. "Your Hi—Majesty, so good to see you alive and well." his voice was still quiet and full of silken menace, but warbled unsteadily. He let out a hiss-like sigh as he reached the ground. "I hope that I can be of some service...?" he asked with uncharacteristic nervousness.

Even in the face of her father's bellowing rages, or her mother's flailing shrieks, she had rarely seen him anything but calm and slightly amused. It was a strange thing, to see him like this.

The debt couldn't be paid today. Not with him as he was now. _She will be livid,_ Dorothea thought, morosely. The only thing her best friend in the world—her only friend in the world—had ever asked of her, and this is how it had worked out. Typical.

She wrestled with her irritation for a moment, looking away so as not to reveal her inner turmoil to Raum, but keeping him in her peripheral vision. How to be diplomatic about this very undiplomatic thing she was about to do? There were no decorum manuals for this sort of thing.

Wait. No, Raum was from elsewhere. He wasn't like the other people of the court, let alone her family. She didn't have to do it this way. His ego wouldn't deflate at the first sign of anything but utmost reverence. She could just say it plainly. "Raum. I am... I have no patience for courtly games. Let me get straight to the point."

His eyes widened a fraction, and she knew she had his undivided attention. "Of course, Majesty."

She turned the situation over in her mind. No, there was no way to soften this. She would just say what she needed to. "You had no loyalty to my father."

His eyes widened a fraction more. "Ah, that is--" he began.

No, she couldn't let him get a word in. He outmatched her easily in such games. She would get it all out in the open before he could change anything to suit him. "--Or the crown. Or..." she rested her chin upon the back of her hand, considering. "Well, I suppose you did have some loyalty to the country. In your own way." To be honest, Raum was probably the only reason this blasted kingdom had survived her father for so long. "You were a useful asset to our family. A shrewd advisor. A competent alchemist. A valued mage. Yet... You cannot be of use to me. I need loyalty. You cannot give it to me. And so, you are relieved of your duties to my house." It was a shame she couldn't keep him on as an advisor. It was almost foolish, in fact. But... Debts must be paid, and paid they shall be.

Taking his silence as an invitation to continue, she did. "That said, I have no animosity towards you. I won't say you were ever a comforting presence in this house, but I have no reason to dislike you." That was the truth. He had terrified her and her siblings as children, certainly, but over time it became clear his disdain of the family was not personal, only an outgrowth of his general irritation with the upper classes in general. Thus, he was content to keep away from them as much as possible, and they were more than content to let him. An amicable arrangement, all considered.

"D-delighted to hear it," he said, quietly. She didn't detect any sarcasm, but it wasn't in his nature to flatter, either. As she pondered the ramifications of this, she heard him ask: "Am I to be spared, then?"

Ah. He had misunderstood; he thought she meant to have him killed. Well, it was a fair guess. Those days in the dungeon were clearly not pleasant for him. She studied the texture of the wall, considering her next words. She wanted to be clear.

Unfortunately, Raum's imagination seemed to have run off with him in the meantime, and he launched into a panicked plea before she could finish sorting her thoughts out. "I—I'll leave. As you say, I have—I don't want revenge, or anything of the sort—I will never darken your door again, I'm not—" he paused to gasp for air.

Startled, she swiveled her gaze back to him. His complexion had grown even grayer since she had last looked directly at him, and she was afraid the man might actually faint. She had to finish this before he got even worse ideas and made any strange decisions, as men who fear for their lives are wont to do. "I believe you, Raum."

He froze, eyes wide. "You do?"

She would make him understand, even if he didn't like it. "Yes. However... I have debts to pay."

"Debts," he repeated.

She nodded. "Debts. Loyalty is not cheap."

She watched him as he considered this, eyes darting from one spot in the floor to another. He twisted his hands in his shackles, probably unconsciously.

Soon he began to tremble. It was possible he thought she was going to give him over to someone he had angered before—theirs was not the first court he had served, she knew, and he had said some things in the past that made her think he may have left them for very good reason.

She watched him continue to worry at his bonds. Those bruises would not be going away anytime soon. They had only had him for three days, under order to take care of him, and this is what happened to him? A fresh wave of frustration overtook her, and she was near powerless to stop the sigh that rolled out of her. "But I can't present you looking like _this_."

He suddenly jerked his attention from the floor to her face. "P-present?" he closed his eyes and took in a deep breath. A pause. He blew it out slowly, shakily. Opening his eyes again, he looked into hers. "Is there s-some reason why I need be prettied up?" The barest hint of a grin showed on his face. "Would your debtors be disappointed if they thought they were not the first to harm me?"

Ah, there was the Raum she knew and tolerated. She had been worried for a moment there. "No. If anything, she will be angry to learn anyone hurt you at all. Unfortunately, I don't think we have time to let you heal completely..." she frowned inwardly. "I will just have to take responsibility. In the meantime..." she looked to Mary. "He needs a bath, a decent meal, and some medical care."

She rose from her seat. "I think she can wait a day or two more. She has plenty else to keep her busy."

Raum's face blanked. "She?"

Dorothea met his careful gaze with one of her own. "Your owner."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize for pulling the "same scene two times" thing. Apparently I am one of only 5 people in the world who don't hate it.


	2. Her Gift

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm still writing!! You can't stop me! No one can stop me!

Patience had never been a quality Lena was known for. She loathed being told to wait for anything. Yet, Dorothea never asked for anything without good reason, Lena _knew_ that, so she would wait this time. She believed whatever Door told her, because she believed _in_ Door. Always had, right from jump. And if the last week proved anything to anybody, she was right to feel that way.

Door had always been brilliant. Lena had seen that right away, from the first day they met, at Door's thirteenth birthday party. A big bash, with circus animals and singing and dancing and all of that kind of thing. Lena had never seen so much happening all at once like that. They didn't do parties like that back in Elgia. They had drinking and fighting and sometimes tournaments; a party there was really just an excuse to cause trouble and give the local healers something to complain about. She'd been impressed. But Door herself had been the most impressive thing.

Lena just had this feeling about her. Like, wherever this girl went, it was going to _work_. And so, Lena had immediately marched up to her demanded to become her friend. Door had agreed, somewhat uncomfortably. And it had worked out.

To think they would have never met if Lena's mother hadn't bucked tradition and become hell-bent on forming ties outside Elgia. Really, things couldn't gone better for the Queen that day—her youngest and the King's eldest were fast friends, promising... Not a lot, when you got down to it. The old King didn't do much for them in the end, all told. But it was the principle of the thing.

Lena smiled to herself, fingering the medallion Door had awarded her to signify her rank of most trusted General. What a journey. A journey! From a pair of callow girls trading complaints about their families to a _coup_. Absolutely wild.

The door to the study suddenly opening startled her out of her thoughts. Great big Rana stood there, looking unimpressed. "Lena. She did not call for you."

Lena felt her face heat. The guard had always been like that. Strict and short. She wasn't ever wrong, though, so Lena couldn't hate her for it. "I-I know, but. I just wanted to ask something. A few things. Just for a minute."

Rana frowned. "You know how things are done here."

Poor Rana. Been trying to straighten Lena out from the start. Never really managed it, but she tried all the same. It was a kind of affection, Lena knew. "I know. But.. She's not busy now, is she?"

The guard pursed her lips. Lena gave her her most winning smile; sometimes that kind of thing worked. "I will inquire."

Door's voice carried out from beyond the threshold. "It's fine, Rana. Let her in. There is little more I can do tonight."

Rana frowned, but waved her in. Lena made an apologetic little bow and stepped inside.

She found Door sitting behind her mother's old desk, a library's worth of books and papers spread out over its surface. She looked tired.

Lena felt a pang of guilt just underneath her heart. Poor Door. Lena had the fun part of the whole ordeal, the action part, the death or glory part. Door had the less fun part: The paperwork, the diplomacy... The cleanup. Door smiled weakly. "I knew there would be a lot of work to do, but... Fortunately, Raum at least, was an organized man." She frowned down at a slip of paper covered in spidery handwriting. "His writing is atrocious, though."

Lena perked up at the man's name. "How is he doing?"

Door's eyes moved to hers, her gaze reproachful. "Lena."

She raised her hands in a gesture of surrender. "I know! I know. I'm just, I'm curious."

Door studied her for a minute. "He is fine. His injuries looked worse than they actually were."

White hot anger started to creep through her gut, a familiar low burn. "Did you found out who hurt him?"

"Lena. Let it go. It was my error. I was not clear in my instructions."

"But-"

"Will you thrash me?"

The flames of hatred guttered and died in her midsection. It was unsatisfying; that had been the beginning of a solid rage, that was. "No."

"Then it is settled." She paused. "We have talked about this before, but... Lena, I want you to be very careful with that man."

"Door-"

"You know what he's like. We called him the Viper for good reason. He was content to be what he was before, but I don't know that he will take enslavement all that well."

Lena frowned, digging her chin into her chest. She knew that. The only reason no one in the famously paranoid royal family had gotten around to getting rid of him was because he so plainly had no real ambitions beyond a comfortable government post. A very benign viper, if you asked her.

"I just... If he should manage to turn you against me..."

She looked up, horrified. "Door, no, never! I would never--"

"That's what I very much believe. Want to believe. I just... You chose a very dangerous prize, Lena." She rubbed her temples. "What are you even planning to have him do, anyway?"

Lena's face was on fire. Well, it felt like it was.

Door, herself pinkening, raised a hand to silence her. "Never mind. I should not have asked."

"I just!" she shouted, feeling a little too exposed for her liking, "I just think, it would be a shame, you know, because he knows so much, to just not have him around. So--"

"Lena, it's fine. I've been aware of your infatuation for some time now. Even if I don't understand it."

She crossed her arms. "He's not that bad, you know."

Door smiled weakly at that. "You always kept the most bizarre pets."

Lena grinned at that. "I made you like them too."

"At any rate." Door rose from her seat, grimacing. "I am tired, and there is still much to do. Things are going smoother than I expected, but..." her gaze drifted towards the west-facing window of the study.

Lena nodded. Even with all of the diplomacy-n' Door had done to get them here, even standing up top on an alliance of nations the likes of which the continent hadn't seen in ages, there were still enemies to worry about.

Well. Mostly just the one.

A loud "ahem" from the doorway startled them both out of their pensive thoughts. Lena whipped her head around to find Rana standing beside the now open door. "It is late," she said, and Lena could feel the prongs on that one.

Alright, message received. She looked back to Door. "Well, I better go back."

Door began to nod assent, then paused as a thought struck her. "Are your quarters satisfactory?"

"Oh! Yeah, I... Well, I'm still going through everything. Old Donte sure liked to horde." she rubbed the back of her neck. "You didn't have to, you know. I can stay in the guest rooms, like always. I'm gonna go back to Elgia for a bit like always, and..."

"Nonsense. You deserve the best." She smiled. "Good night, Lena."

"G'night, Door."

* * *

Owner. _Owner_.

The word had meandered through Raum's thoughts since.

Slavery was unusual in this part of the world. Not unheard of, just... Unfashionable. _Gauche_. Yet, there was no other word for what he was to be subjected to. Was it a case like back home, where he was meant to work off a debt through years of service? Or was it to be a prolonged bout of torture and abuse, as was common in the west? He was vaguely aware of some style practiced in the southeastern isles, but was unsure on the specifics.

Better than death, he supposed. At least for the moment.

He leaned back in his chair, hands steepled over his chest. They hadn't allowed him to go back to his chambers, since again, he might be Up To Something. Instead, he was temporarily being held inside a storeroom whose location he was not totally sure of. He had a bed, a chair, something that aspired to be a desk, and some candles. The only thing they allowed him to have of his own was a worn old robe be had long ago designated as lab wear. He guessed they didn't want him to get ideas above his new station, and so left his more ornate courtly robes behind.

_No window, either._ The lack of sunlight was doing him no favors mentally or physically. Worse, he had no real way to keep track of time. It didn't seem to be a conscious choice, however, just an oversight. He wondered just how well all this reorganization was going.

His gaze lowered to the new set of unwanted jewelry he had been gifted. They still kept him in shackles, but at least this set had a little give, and didn't cut into his wrists as the others had. He ran a finger over the collar. They hadn't taken it off since they had slapped it on. Understandable, but wearying. The suppression effect was working overtime on him. He wondered if his captor's ignorance might eventually kill him. He would have to figure out a way to bring it up without giving the entire game away.

He glanced towards the door. At least he was allowed some privacy. They didn't seem concerned that he might harm himself, and were likely assuming the collar and chains would keep him from getting ideas about coordinating surprise attack. He had no reason to disappoint them.

His only duty at the moment was to rest, and heal. Boring work. He longed for a book. One of his own, preferably. _Think of all the research I could be doing,_ he thought. _I hope they haven't done anything to my things._

Ah, but he didn't have things now, did he? He was someone else's thing. The idea still hadn't settled in. Who would want to keep him around here for anything? He had been a necessary evil for most of the court; the audible sighs of relief whenever he left a room had always been amusing. Based on Dorothea's words from before, 'she' didn't plan to torment or murder him, at least not right away. So, he was meant to do.. What, exactly?

Well. The cracks in the wall weren't offering him any answers. He should sleep. He rose from his chair, pleased to find that his body didn't have quite so many objections to the idea this time.

_I can find a way out of this,_ he thought, moving to the bed. _I always find a way out._

* * *

Lena walked briskly along the garden path, trying not too look hurried. It was hard. Her puddle-deep reserves of patience were nearly bone dry now, and she desperately wanted to break into a run. But Door wanted _decorum_ , so Lena was determined to try some.

The path was very familiar to her. It was one of many, part of the sprawling garden complex on the east side of the palace. Most of them were well-kept, cobblestone-covered things, lined with proper little bushes and wide enough to accommodate large numbers of guests. This one, however, was a narrow dirt lane that ran around and behind everything, meant for servants and others who didn't need to be seen. She and Door had traveled it nearly every day during all those summers Lena spent here. It led to their secret hideaway.

_Not secret anymore, though,_ she pouted. Door had taken to holding court there lately. Lena hated it. That was supposed to be their place. Even Door's younger siblings weren't allowed. Having all these new people tramping around there now, not understanding the sacredness of the place, really set her teeth on edge. Why couldn't she just use the big hall like her father, like she was supposed to--

She stopped dead in the middle of the path and forcibly took a deep breath. She held it for a moment, then blew it out, slowly. No, she wasn't going to get mad. She understood. Really. If her friend still needed time, then... She still needed time, and that was that. It had been a gory business, after all, and she wasn't used to seeing that kind of thing, like Lena was.

So.

Once she was sure the burn had died down, she continued her trek. Soon the walls of the hideaway came into view.

It wasn't a proper walled garden. It wasn't supposed to be. Door said it might've been meant as a storage area in the original plan, but for whatever reason, it had been left by the gardeners to be overrun by plant and animal alike. Naturally, the two of them had loved it instantly.

A guard stood at the entrance—no, not a guard, a soldier. An Elgian soldier. Lena's eyebrow quirked involuntarily. Seemed a bit much. Did Door purge all the old guards? Sounded like something she would do. Real careful, she was.

The soldier did a double take on her approach. She saluted. Not in the Illvey way, with hand to temple, but the Elgian way, fist to heart. "Honor to the Great Flame of Elgia, and all of her kin."

Lena awkwardly returned the salute. She still didn't know what to do with that title. Her mother's idea. Said it commanded respect. Always felt a bit much. "Honor. Um... Can I go in?"

The soldier stood aside. "Yes, Great Flame."

She walked through the archway and found herself at the edge of a hushed kind of chaos. An cloud of fussy-looking men surrounded Door, reading over papers, exchanging then with one another, trading hisses over the contents. Somehow, their voices never rose above a whisper, though she could tell a few of them really wanted to give shouting a try. Lena froze at the entry, unsure what to do.

Luckily, Door chose just that moment to glance in her direction. She gave Lena a quick smile, before addressing the cloud in a gentle tone: "Gentlemen, we will have to continue this later."

There was some grumbling, but the crowd began to move towards the archway. Lena stepped out of the way. She caught some of their conversation as they passed, but none of it made any sense to her. Money this, land that. Door stuff, not Lena stuff. She turned her attention to Door as the last one passed through the arch. "Still with this stuff?"

Her friend let out an impressively long sigh through her nose. "As it turns out, overturning a kingdom is very like overturning a table. Creates a lot of noise and mess."

Noise and mess. Yeah, it kinda did. Lena herself had been responsible for a lot of both.

Door raised her hand to tap Rana, ever by her side, on the arm. The guard left without a word.

Lena resisted the urge to rock back on her heels. Decorum. "You wanted to see me?" she asked, all innocence. She didn't want to sound too keen, even if she was nearly vibrating in excitement.

Door's gaze softened, the beginning of a smile playing at the corners of her mouth. "Don't pretend. You know why you're here."

Caught. She grinned.

Door stared at her a moment, thinking.

She wiped the smile off her face. Did she ruin it again, the decorum? She was really terrible at this stuff.

Her friend's gaze grew intense, her voice soft and low; whatever she was about to say, it was important to her, so Lena did her best to listen. "Lena... I want you to know. If you had not been at my side..." she breathed in, shakily. "This would not have been possible. None of it. It would have failed, or, more likely, I wouldn't have even tried. You are my greatest asset, and my greatest friend."

Her face being on fire was bad enough, but her heart growing to large for her ribcage, that was a little much. "Door-"

"That is why..." the gravity of her voice lightened a fraction, and this time, she really did smile, a real genuine one like she never gave hardly ever. "I am willing to grant even your bizarre request."

Lena crossed her arms. That was unfair, getting all mushy and then jabbing her like that. "I told you, I'm on your side forever. So. That's what it was."

One of Rana's pointed "a-hem"s came from behind, and Lena just managed not to jump out of her own skin.

Door's smile disappeared instantly. "Raum. You look to be in better health."

With great effort, Lena was able to turn around the way a normal person would.

Raum stood a little ways away, beside Rana, who held the loose end of the chain attached to his collar. Lena sighed in relief; he looked mostly fine, save for the yellow ghosts of bruises at his temple and around his neck. A lick of angry flame grazed her heart. She was going to find out who did that, even if Door didn't want her to.

At Rana's urging, he made his way to stand before them and bowed. "Your Majesty."

His dark hair was loose in waves about his face, not tied back as usual, and Lena liked that. She longed to stroke it, feel if it was soft, or silky, or both. It looked soft. It always looked soft.

He smiled, but it wasn't genuine; a sharp, cold thing, like a knife. Matched his eyes. "I believe I am in better health, Majesty, by the care of your healers. Much better than that of the guardsmen."

"You must be feeling good, to take such a careless tone with me." Door said, flatly.

His smile didn't budge, but it did get a little less sharp. "My apologies, Majesty. I did not mean any disrespect."

Looked pretty haughty for a man in shackles, Lena thought.

...Looked pretty, she thought. She immediately bit her tongue. No, no, no, _decorum_. Deal with it for now. For Door.

His gaze slowly slid away from Door, until he was looking sidelong at her. His smile grew sharp again, as if he had caught her at something. "Lena. How good to see you." He turned to face her. "I hope there are no hard feelings left over from the... Unpleasantness, from the other night."

Her left hand went to her right shoulder before she could stop herself. Yeah, he'd almost got her. Fair enough, he was trying to get away, but... Yeah, it had hurt. "Um. Take more than that to kill me." She forced her hand down and stood up straighter. It didn't do much—the man was easily a full head taller than her, and she was proper tall herself—but it made her feel better.

Smile still in place, he inclined his head slightly. "I assure you that was never my intention."

"Well. Doesn't matter now." she muttered, face burning. He probably meant it. Never struck her as a killer. Maybe the type to pay someone else to do it.

"Raum," Door said, loudly, drawing their attention back to her. "You do know why you are here?"

"I believe I am to become someone else's problem." He turned back to her, brows raised. "I confess I am interested to see who is to be saddled with me."

"I see. Then," She turned to Lena. "Lena, may I present Raum, your new problem."

Raum froze, and his smile died instantly. A look of pure bewilderment took over, and wasn't that a sight? It was... Cute, actually. "What?"

Door glanced at him, then continued addressing Lena. "Please let me know if he is too _much_ of a problem."

Rana handed her the chain's end, then stepped back to her spot by the door. Lena stared down at it, grasping it tight. "I don't think he will," she said quietly, trying to contain her excitement. She looked up at Raum, wanting another gander at his dumbfounded expression.

It hadn't shifted by much. His eyes were as wide as she'd ever seen them.

They were lovely eyes. Green and blue at the same time, like a summer lake. Lovely.

Suddenly, he seemed to catch himself, and his expression turned considering. "Elgian... You're from Elgia."

Well, yeah. She bristled. "Something wrong with that?"

"Not at all," he said, faintly. "I... Only, didn't consider..." he swallowed thickly.

_Didn't consider what?_ She was about to ask exactly that when Door cut in. "Then it is settled. Lena, go deal with your new problem. Rana, fetch the secretaries back." She briskly brushed nothing off her lap. "I have more to do today."

* * *

Raum had made a mental list the other night of women who might want to keep him around for whatever reason (which was usually "to torture and/or murder"). It was a short list, and Lena did not appear on it.

He stared at the back of her head as she led him through the gardens and along a series of corridors. Her short, reddish hair stuck up at odd angles, unkempt and unadorned. A faint halo of gold flashed whenever they passed under a sunbeam.

Lena. He hadn't even considered her. For one thing, he did come uncomfortably close to killing her that night, and he hadn't even been sure she had survived until he saw her in the gardens this morning. For another, they simply didn't have much of a relationship to begin with. He knew her only as the eldest daughter's friend, and as the Elgian Queen's youngest. She knew him as... Well, he wasn't sure, but he assumed she didn't think of him fondly. He racked his brain, trying to remember enough about their past interactions to get an idea of how to proceed.

She suddenly stopped in her tracks, and he just managed to catch himself before he barreled into her. Suddenly torn from his thoughts, he took stock of where they ended up. They were are the end of a hall he had apparently never walked; he would have remembered such a large and imposing door if he had.

Lena unlocked it with some difficulty. Judging from the look of the key, it was an old one. Perhaps easy to get through, if someone inside should want to escape. Good to know.

She banged the door open with a knee. Apparently, it wasn't hung well, either. Pushing it open, she motioned him inside.

An unfamiliar part of the palace, which was still brimming with soldiers. Standing far too close to a woman he knew was as deadly as any of them. No, no point in trying to run just yet. He obeyed, stepping inside.

The decor—most of it currently on the floor—gave him a much needed clue as to where he was. This must be Donte's old place. No one else with apartments within the palace was _that_ excited about horses. He laughed softly, before remembering the last time he saw the man. Well, part of him. "I take it Donte will not be joining us."

Lena pursed her lips, looking over at a large painting sitting against the wall, underneath the spot it had originally hung. "No. He's not around anymore. But his stuff is."

He should have guessed. A loyal subject if there ever was one. _Good riddance, you pompous idiot._ They studied the collection of paintings, hangings, statuary, and pottery in shared silence.

He attempted to rub his chin in thought, only to be rudely reminded that he was still shackled. Ah, right. There was also this to figure out. "Am I to be set organizing this mess, then?" he asked, hoping it sounded airy and not snide.

Lena looked at him from under her lashes, her expression oddly guilty. "No."

He glanced around, looking for another clue, but nothing presented itself. "Then I am out of ideas. What do you need me for, exactly?"

She stared at him, an unidentifiable look on her face. He swallowed. Was he being too familiar? Was she angry with him? This was all very surreal. He looked away.

"Earlier, you said..."

He looked back to find her golden gaze boring into him.

"'You're Elgian.'" she stepped closer to him. Her voice was low, quiet. A threat. "What did you mean by that?"

He stepped back. He didn't like the sound of that. He didn't know this girl that well, honestly, and that unnerved him; he had no frame of reference to act on, no way of knowing what would make her angry. Feeding full blown lightning into her didn't seem to do it, but that didn't mean anything. He did his best to adopt a more deferential tone, something he hadn't had a lot of practice with lately. "I... My apologies, I only... I had been trying to guess who would..."

She stalked him further back. "Guess who would...?"

"Want to take on a sl-slave," he said, stuttering when the back of his legs hit something. He glanced down to find a plush green chair impeding his progress. He looked back to find she had come closer, uncomfortably so. He cleared his throat. Was he going to earn another beating? He was, wasn't he? He probably deserved it for getting smart back in the garden. He hadn't foreseen-

His thoughts promptly crashed to the ground as Lena put a hand against his chest and shoved him back into the chair. He landed upon it heavily, its metal legs scraping loudly against the floor as it was forced backward. She bent over him, unsmiling, staring deep into his eyes. "And what do you know about Elgia?"

He grew very still. This could go very badly for him, very quickly. He prided himself on his quick thinking, but he hadn't been in top form since the night everything had gone so wrong. "I..."

She raised an eyebrow.

He desperately picked through his memory, looking for something, anything, on the topic. He didn't know. He only knew it did happen there, not why or to whom or how often. Or--

Wait.

_There was that one night, long ago, when the Elgian delegation had first arrived in Illvey. Dorothea's birthday. He had excused himself from the festivities earlier that day, knowing full well he was not wanted there and not particularly wanting to attend anyway. Still, he had been curious of any goings on during, and knew the best possible way to learn them was gossip._

_He had used a charm to make himself unknowable. Any who looked at him were compelled to lose interest immediately. Under this guise, he had done a circuit about the palace: first, the parlors full of courtiers who didn't want the party to stop. Second, the kitchens when service began to slow and they had time to talk rot about those in the first category. Last, the barracks. It was this final stop where he had heard it. A pair of guards, enjoying some contraband behind the mess._

_"They just let them in? Like it's normal?"_

_"They did, they did. Wild eyes on all of em, look like they come straight out of the woods. Bunch of wild women."_

_"No men?"_

_"No, no men." then, lower: "Hear they don't let em out and about like that. My brother said, they're all mixed up, they have the women out fighting and the men back home. And not just home, like, they keep em locked up."_

_"You're serious?"_

_"Yeah! Yeah. Says, watch out. One takes a liking to you, they grab you up, drag you home, keep you like a pet." A raucous laugh. "A pet you fuck."_

_"I don't believe you."_

_"It's true! Don't believe me then. Go get in good with one and we'll see if you're still around tomorrow.' more laughter. 'Might be fun. Some of them would look good if they fixed up. Maybe I should find one."_

_"They wouldn't have you."_

_He had left then, using their laughter as cover for the sound of his footsteps. The perverted fantasies of drunkards were neither interesting nor useful. Besides, he had no reason or way to 'get in good' with anybody. He was more than safe._

Yet, in the present... He studied Lena's face. It was as blank as he had ever seen; no cues to take there. She was still boring holes in him with her eyes, however, and that said nothing good.

No, that was... That wasn't anything. Just the addled ramblings of an oversexed idiot. "Only rumor. Only that.. It is practiced. In some manner."

"Some manner," she repeated.

He nodded, once, then looked away. That was as much as he thought he could give without admitting total ignorance, which he was certain was the wrong move.

She was still for a moment. Momentarily, he felt her shift; it was only when he felt warmth and pressure over his right leg that he jerked his attention back to her. She knelt on the ground before him, upper body pressed against his shin and one arm folded over his thigh. Her chin rested upon her arm.

"What manner, Raum?" she asked, softly. He felt her other hand lightly stroking his calf through his robe.

For the first time in a very long time indeed, he felt himself out to sea. He had no frame of reference for how to behave or what to say. "I-I genuinely do not kn—only heard—it was—" he snapped his mouth shut. There was absolutely nothing to be gained by babbling. He would be quiet and force her to tell him. It was the only move left.

* * *

Holy Mother of the sea and sky, he was adorable.

She had always thought him pretty. His aloof, slightly snotty personality had been interesting. She had rarely seen him be anything but on top of things. Seeing him so lost, trembling and confused.. It was all brand new.

A different burning was starting in her. Not anger, or battle-lust. Something better.

_Don't rush. Don't mess this up._ "You heard...?"

He shook his head, eyes darting away.

She could guess, of course, but she wanted to hear him say it. "You heard?" she repeated, louder, gripping his ankle.

He refused to meet her eyes. His long, fine hands gripped the chair's arms so hard she thought he might hurt himself.

No good. She'd have to find a new avenue of attack. That was fine. She was good at that, and her motivation was at an all-time high.

She got up off the floor, reluctantly letting him go. He started, but didn't look at her. "Raum."

A high hum of acknowledgement escaped him, though he kept his eyes averted.

_Fuck it._ She climbed onto his lap, straddling his legs, wrapping her arms around his neck. His reaction was immediate; he brought his shackled hands up to hide his rapidly reddening face, sucking a deep breath in through his teeth. She could feel how violently he was trembling now, how hard his heart was beating. _Cute._ "I think I know what you heard."

"St-stupid t-talk from p-pathetic wretches, nothing, nothing, nothing worth mentioning, just--" he bit out.

She leaned in close, close enough to whisper into his ear. God, he smelled good. Like wood and sky and rain. "You heard, that us wicked wild women from the islands, we steal away men from outside and keep them as toys. Didn't you?"

His own voice dropped to a nearly inaudible level. "Ab-ab-absolute n-nonsense."

"Raum." she stroked his hair, and _yes_ , it really was that soft. She tucked a lock behind his ear, pleased to see it was flushed full-on crimson.

"Don't kn-kn-know why, anyone, would say—just—afraid of, something f-foreign-"

Leaning back, she took hold of the shackles, pulling his hands down and away from his face. He gave her little resistance, and finally met her eyes over them, his own wild and staring. Her other hand grabbed the ring around his neck, pulling it to the side. Before he could react, she leaned down and laid a series of kisses along the side of his neck, where the collar had been resting; and oh, he tasted _good_. His skin was soft, and here and there was a little mole to kiss, like a target. He spasmed at that, pushing his bound arms against her chest. She pushed them back, and he didn't resist. She pulled away, just far enough to look into his eyes again, and smiled. "It's kind of true."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally getting close to porny. Damn. Took long enough.


	3. To Devour

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Me last time: mwahahaha no one can stop me!!  
> Life, in general: (ʃƪ¬‿¬)
> 
> anyway yeah this is straight up porn

If Raum had felt himself lost at sea before, he was now surely outside the bounds of time and space as well.

Never in his life had he been an object of female interest, and in truth, he had been _fine with that_. Gifted with neither beauty nor charm, he had done the sensible thing and settled into his role as A Thing That Lurks. It was a fine quality to have for a man like him, whose greatest wish was to be left alone to do as he pleased.

Lena's grin became toothy, and he shivered as she traced a finger along the back of his neck, just above the collar. "It's alright, Raum. I'll take good care of you. Promise."

It didn't make _sense_. Something was wrong. Something was missing.

He wasn't stupid. Lovely girls like her did not become interested in creatures like him, not even as curiosities. This must be a joke, or some sort of twisted revenge. He _had_ nearly murdered her; any anger was more than justified by that alone.

The panic from earlier receded. Mind games, at least, were familiar territory. _Back on terra firma_. Even if he was on the fast path to yet more physical violence, maybe he could argue it down to something less painful.

He took in a deep breath, carefully selecting his next words. "Lena... This is not necessary."

Her smile began to fade. "What isn't?"

He indicated their positions as well as he could with his arms awkwardly folded between them. "This. This... Thing."

She frowned and sat further back, eyes searching his face.

He let his arms relax, his elbows finding their way back to his sides, hands clasped at his chest. Clearing his throat, he willed the tremor out of his voice. It almost worked. "You don't need to put an act on for me."

She scrunched up her nose at that. "What act?"

"W-Well, that you..." he found himself getting hot in the face, unable to finish. The very idea was utterly ridiculous, and he wasn't sure how to approach it. He would try a different tack, then. "The point is, I'm already--"

"An act," she huffed, suddenly tossing a look behind herself.

His next attempt to speak didn't get very far, as she suddenly slid off him, back down over his legs and to the floor. Before he could react to this bizarre action, she grabbed him by the legs and pulled him down as well. His backside landed on the floor, and he let out an undignified squeak.

"I'll show you an act," she continued, shuffling backward on her knees, dragging him further away from the seat by one leg. She soon dropped it and began crawling back towards him.

The lean muscle moving under bronzed skin and her gilded stare reminded him, rather uncomfortably, of a mountain lion. His carefully considered line of argument grayed out in the midst of his fright, and he was left with nothing but instinct. He started to scoot back. "Wait! Wait, Lena, I wasn't--"

Wordlessly, she grabbed his shoulder and shoved him flat onto the floor, and he hissed in pain as his head bounced against against the hard wood. So distracted, he didn't offer any resistance as she swiftly moved to straddle his hips. "You always think the worst, you know that? I've never seen anybody try so hard to find the cloud behind every silver lining."

He found himself too shocked to answer. What was this position?

She suddenly leaned forward, yanking his shackled wrists over his head. He heard a thump then, and when the order to move finally reached his limbs, he found himself unable to draw them back. A quick glance upward revealed the chain curled around one leg of the chair. Another tug told him that he was now very much stuck there. The frame underneath the seat was apparently solid metal, and quite heavy.

Despite the situation, he found himself impressed with her strength. He had already known she was well regarded as a warrior among her kind, but actually seeing her skills in action was another thing entirely.

"If you're going to overthink it like that," she said, producing a knife from somewhere around her right hip, "I'll just have to make sure you can't think."

He felt a strange calm come over him, tinged with smug self-satisfaction. _So I was right,_ he thought, faintly. He might be about to die, but at least things were making sense again.

She grabbed a handful of his robes and pulled, readying the knife in her other hand. He judged the trajectory as one ending in his heart.

_At least it'll be a quick death._

He screwed his eyes shut, unable to watch.

* * *

Lena drove the knife in. Pulling upward and along, she was pleased when the ratty old robe came apart without too much trouble.

Raum snapped his gaze back to her. "What are you doing?!"

She continued her work, but spared him a reproachful look. "Kind of a stupid question, don't you think?"

The befuddled expression from earlier was back. It was fast becoming a favorite of hers. He reddened, though whether it was from embarrassment or rage, she couldn't tell. "Har-Hardly?! At all?!"

She yanked the knife through the last stretch of fabric at the neck, clearing it easily. Quickly resheathing the knife at her hip, she set to work ripping the threadbare robe apart from the start of the cut down to the hem. She had waited long enough, damn it. This thing was coming _off_.

"Lena!" he squawked, high and strangled. "Are you _mad_?!"

"That's what they say about us Elgian girls," she chirped, tearing though the last stretch of worn cloth. She pushed the ruined halves apart as she crawled her way back up to his hips. Once reseated, she continued to run her hands just inside the opening, forcing the rest aside to the end. "So yeah, maybe."

She sat back to admire her work. This was it. This was what made it all worth it. The violence, the risk, the _waiting_. She had her prize now.

She knew he would be on the lanky side, of course. Even wrapped up in his usual overdone robes, it had been obvious he didn't have much width to complement his height. Like his hands, it was long and lean, all sharp lines and angles. She could see the vague outline of his ribs shift under his skin as he breathed. Her mood darkened a little when she noticed the discoloration along his right side, but she would let it go for now. More interesting things to think about.

He yanked at his bonds, but the chair barely moved. It was a heavy thing; Lena herself had only been able to lift it long enough to trap him. A quiet whine came from the back of his throat, and he eyed her as if she might bite him. "L-Lena, I don't know what-what you think you're doing, but this is _beyond the pale_ , even as a j-joke--"

"What joke?" she asked conversationally, still looking him over. He was kind of beyond the pale himself. Almost bone white. No wonder there had been so many nervous jokes about him being a vampire.

Maybe she _would_ bite him. He looked nice to bite.

"W-whatever it is you're doing here!"

His nipples were a pretty shade of coral. They looked like little candies, and Lena very much wanted to pop one in her mouth. Men were funny about that, though. Could never tell which ones would like it, which ones hated it, and which ones hated that they liked it.

"Y-you shouldn't be caught here, with me, like this--"

She was surprised to find no body hair to speak of. She had expected at least a little, say in the middle of his chest, or traveling from his navel down to more interesting parts. Well, she wasn't going to complain. Less to get stuck in her teeth.

"To go so f-far for the sake of, of--"

She hadn't removed his underthings yet, as she hadn't wanted scare him by cutting that close to anything he might consider especially important. She noted a mole peeking over the top, near his right hipbone. She was especially excited to kiss that one.

"If you hate me that m-much--"

She finally tore her eyes away from his body. He was still flushed with embarrassment, and his eyes were wild. "What? I don't hate you."

Sighing, he let his head fall back to the floor. His tone was utterly exhausted. Defeated. "Just kill me, or beat me, or... Or whatever it is you're planning to--"

She ground her core into him, and it was hard not to laugh when he suddenly cut off with a strangled hiccup, his eyes flicking back to her in shock. Even if she was having a hard time getting through to the man, his body was more than willing to listen. "What did I just say about assuming the worst?"

He drew in a long and shuddering breath, expression utterly confused.

...What a nice sound that was.

_Wait,_ she thought, stopping short. She didn't have any Sybella seed, or anything like it. She wouldn't be able to enjoy him that way now, not without risk. She growled to herself. _I guess I'm stupid too._

Raum froze, probably thinking that was for him. His tone changed into something closer to pleading. "Lena, please. I don't understand. What kind of game is this?"

She blinked. "Game?"

"I don't know what you want from me. You—You have already won. Both of you. I can't do anything to you, I've lost, as much as anyone. I don't know why you have to—It is all very unfair--" he swallowed nervously, and his frown took on a wobbly quality that made her heart hurt. "Just kill me. You don't have to h-humiliate me like this."

He turned his head away, pressing his face into his arm. Hiding. "I-I didn't know it was you. I t-truly didn't. I only... I just wanted, it was only meant to be a distraction. I didn't know, they only told me in the dungeons.. That I almost..."

_Oh. Oh, no._ Did he really think this was about that? Maybe the knife had been a little much earlier. "Raum."

"I didn't know. I swear to you, I didn't know."

He really hadn't meant to kill her, then. She was happy to crush the last of her doubts about that, at least. He had sounded mean and insincere back in the garden, but he had been telling the truth. Pretty standard Raum move, that.

"Raum," she scooted forward, taking his face in her hands, forcing him to look at her. She brushed her thumb over his cheekbone. "I don't know what exactly is going through that funny head of yours, but that has nothing to do with anything."

She felt him try to look away again, but held him fast. He averted his eyes instead, his lower lip trembling.

He really didn't get it, did he? Made up a story in his head, ignoring what she said. Well, fine. She would make sure he couldn't misinterpret things anymore.

She shifted her hands underneath his head, tangling them in his hair. She just barely caught sight of his eyes jerking back to her face as she leaned in to meet his lips with hers.

He jerked under her, his shoulders and neck locking up tight. She felt one of his knees knock against her backside as he unconsciously pulled his leg up. She slid one hand out of his hair, trailing her fingers down his neck until they grazed the collar. When he made as if to turn away, she gripped it, pulling him deeper into the kiss. His initial resistance quickly melted under her assault.

He was clumsy, like a young man having his first go. Reminded her of her first kiss, actually; but where that boy had been cocky and overeager (resulting in more slobber than was really necessary), Raum was hesitant and gentle, as if he was afraid to do something wrong.

She broke off the kiss and pulled away, at the same time loosening her hold on the collar. Pulling her other hand out of his hair, she stroked along the back of his neck. He shivered at the touch. "So," she whispered, licking her lips. "Do you still think I hate you?"

He said nothing, only stared at her lips. His own were parted slightly, his expression dazed. He was still trembling, but it didn't seem it was out of fear. It was all very endearing. She didn't think she had ever seen such a look on him.

_Alright. Time to get down to business._ She grudgingly slid off him, already missing the feel of his arousal against her. If she couldn't have him in her, she would just have to get her needs met some other way.

He seemed to snap awake at that, and she heard the shackle chain clank against the chair leg. "Wh—Wait, what? What is—"

"It's alright," she assured him, gentle as she could. "It's going to feel really good. I promise." She laid next to him on the floor, wrapping her leg around one of his own and grinding her core against his hip. He let out a high and startled "hah" at that, but said nothing more.

She laid her head on his chest, listening to his heart thunder against her ear for a moment, before craning her neck for a better look downward. "Now, let's see what we have to work with."

She slid her hand underneath the hem of his underthings, grasping him as gently as her excitement would allow. She was pleased to find him fully hard, and the damp cloth against her knuckles told her he'd been that way for a while.

He keened, trying to curl in on himself, unable to do so between the twin restraints of the shackles and Lena's leg. He brought his other leg up, trying to cover himself, but she wasn't about to have that.

"No," she warned, slipping her hand back out and holding his knee out of the way. "Don't you dare. You're mine now, I'll play with it if I want."

He gasped. "Lena, please, you don't have to do this. You don't have to--"

"Oh, yes I do," she said, shoving it back. He obediently let it fall away.

She hooked a thumb under the hem and yanked down, freeing his cock. She smiled. Long like the rest of him, but girthy enough to have fun with. It was a lovely shade of pink, too. He really was pretty all over, wasn't he? She might never let him wear clothes again.

The clunk-clunk-clunk of the shackle chain grinding against the chair leg made her pull away a little and have a peek at his face, only to find he had hidden it with his arm again. _Cute._

Turning her attention back to the task at hand, she stroked it once, lightly, delighting in the heat and texture.

He emitted a high-pitched noise, but it was muffled by flesh.

She pouted into his chest. _The hiding is cute, but I want to hear him._ Men from the outside were so silly about making noise. She hated it. Their little moans and cries were half the fun. _I'll let it go for now. Next time, I get to hear everything._

She wrapped her hand back around him and began pumping in earnest, grinding herself into his hip as she went. She swiped her thumb against the head, once, and a spasm wracked through his body. The noise he made this time was much louder, needier, and the muffling effect of his arm didn't do much to hide it. _Or maybe I can give him such a hard time he won't be able to help himself._

She suddenly remembered how tasty his nipples had looked earlier. Pulling her head away from his chest, she hunted for her new quarry. Now taut from the cold of the room, they looked twice as delicious. _Worth a try._

She let go of his cock, eliciting a whine from him. _Don't worry, I'll be back._ She slid her hand up his stomach to the other side of his chest and took hold of the far one, and he spasmed again. _Oh?_ An experimental lick earned her another whine. He wasn't a hate-it type, then. She bit into it, at the same time pinching the other.

The sound that burst from him then! A full-throated "ah!" that wouldn't be contained. She grinned, pulling it with her teeth, and was rewarded with a full-on moan. Didn't look like a hate-that-he-liked-it, either.

She slid her hand back down to his cock and began to pump him again, rhythm steady and grip tight. High little moans escaped him, and it seemed he was too distracted to keep them as quiet as he had before.

Her grinding had continued apace, but wasn't as satisfying as she had hoped. Unless she had him put his mouth to use or something similar, she probably wasn't going to get there anytime soon. It was tempting, but she also felt like she hadn't looked her fill yet. After all, she had never seen any part of him bare but his head and hands for years, and here she had him completely open to her.

She huffed. Waiting was annoying, but having to make hard choices wasn't much better. _Well, I'll keep going for now. Maybe bring him off first, just to see how he acts._ What would he look like? He was coming undone beautifully already, well beyond her highest hopes. She had never dreamed he would be so responsive. Maybe today she would just make a memory, something to entertain herself with during long meetings on strategy. It's not like she didn't have time to enjoy him in other ways later.

His breathing hitched in just the right way, and she knew he was coming close. But it wasn't enough. She wanted to do more, so much more. She wanted to possess him utterly.

Making a last-second decision, she let go of him again, and the high and wild sound he made at that startled her. _Maybe that's a bit cruel, letting him get so close,_ she mused. _He won't be disappointed for long._

She left his side and seated herself beside his legs. Pulling his last chance at modesty off and tossing it to the side, she then moved between them, draping one over her shoulder.

He was now completely exposed to her, and she admired him from this new angle. His cock still stood straight and proud, quivering as he trembled. She traced her finger along the shaft, reveling in his shuddering little breaths as she did so. As she reached the base, she admired his balls; high and tight, just right for gripping. She traced over them too, enjoying the feel of him there. "You shouldn't be allowed to be this pretty."

She heard him mumbling something, over and over. Closer listening revealed it to be "please." A frisson of delight flew through her. That was a good word. That was a _very_ good word, and she was going to make him say it more if it killed her.

She studied him, considering. She didn't normally do this. Men got _ideas_ from it, and the taste left something to be desired. Yet, more than anything, she wanted to see him come undone, and this was definitely a way to do that.

"Lena...?"

She glanced up at him. He had turned his face out of his arm, one lake-green eye peering at her through his tousled hair. On closer inspection, she spied the tell-tale shine of a tear track at the corner. He labored to breathe, and the dazed expression from earlier was back and stronger than ever.

Well, that settled it. She was going to wreck him.

She laid a kiss upon his knee. The skin there was soft, and smooth; it reminded her of the inside of an apple.

...He really did look nice to bite.

She sank her teeth into the flesh of his inner thigh. Not hard enough to draw blood, but enough to mark. He gasped and made as if to draw it away, but she held his trembling leg fast. After a moment, she let go and drew back to admire her work. A clear bite mark nearly glowed red in the pale skin. A new kind of excitement coursed through her. _She_ did that, to _him_. That was her mark.

She swiveled her gaze to take in his reaction. The lone eye that had stared out at her before was wide, his irises a thin ring of green around blown out pupils. His attention was fully on her now.

_Looks like he doesn't mind overmuch,_ she thought, licking her lips. His gaze flicked down to them, and he made a strangled noise in the back of his throat.

She bit him again, next to her original mark. He jumped, but didn't try to draw away again. She made another after that, and another; soon she had a pair of scalloped lines drawn from just under the join of his leg to his knee.

"You're mine," she breathed, before laying a string of gentle kisses along marked skin. She fixed him with a hungry stare. "You're mine."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Raum: Women are uninterested in me  
> Lena: (ʃƪ¬‿¬)


	4. To Be Devoured

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> some more porn, and then a bunch of not porn. sorry(?).
> 
> would you believe this is really doing a lot to help me work through my various stresses at the moment
> 
> write porn with plot. it's good for you

_There was a painting in the King's council room that Raum had spent more time staring at than was probably healthy._

_It had been a personal gift from the Vyssian Emperor, delivered on the King's birthday with no warning. Leopold had_ hated _it, but propriety demanded he keep the horrible thing, lest the man come for a state visit later and ask to see it. The King's ultimate solution had been to have it displayed in the council room, just behind his own chair. This left only Raum and a handful of other unfortunate souls to suffer the sight of it, but Raum more often than most._

At the edge of a murky river, winding through a dark and misty forest, a golden stag kneels by the water. Its head is thrown back, eyes aimed heavenward. Any effort to interpret this as pious allegory is immediately thwarted by the presence of a large black wolf, its jaws firmly fixed upon the stag's throat. The wolf's eyes are wild, and it stares out of the painting, somewhere just beyond the observer. Dark gouts of blood ooze from the stag's wounds, running down its side and into the water below.

It has no title.

_Raum wasn't sure if he hated it or not. The artist's strokes were strong, even passionate; they lay across the canvas like slashes from a knife. Unlike the carefully blended colors favored by the artists of Illvey, they had been more than happy to leave streaks of pure pigment where it was deemed necessary, such as in the fresh blood of the stag, or the mad eyes of the wolf. At the very least, it was visually interesting, even if the subject matter was gruesome._

_The subject matter..._

_The stag, in ecstasy, surrendering itself to the wolf; the wolf, crazed with the scent and taste of blood, taking this as its due._

_**The mad eyes of the wolf.** _

Lena's eyes shone with that same madness as she kissed along the bites on his inner thigh. "You're mine."

He nodded jerkily, unable to do much more. He hadn't been able to form a single coherent thought after the kiss, and everything since had left him functioning almost entirely on instinct. His skin was overheated and oversensitive, reacting even to the light brush of the collar and shackles. His nipples still stung from her earlier assault. The bites along his inner thigh burned as if branded there.

Is this what it felt like, to be that stag? To give up so completely to the desires of another, even if it meant your own end?

She shifted position, letting go of his abused leg and sinking further downward. He had gathered nearly enough mental fortitude to ask her what she was doing when he felt her lay a feather-light kiss at the base of his cock.

He choked on air. Whatever he had been expecting, it wasn't _that_.

She held him ready with one hand, keeping his pelvis pinned to the floor with the other. Her mouth followed a trail that was the reverse of the one her finger had traced earlier. At intervals, she took a swipe with her tongue, and when she did so just under the head, he thought he might actually lose his mind.

_Please don't bite that,_ was what he wanted to say. What came out was unintelligible.

"It's alright," she said, laying another kiss on the sensitive head. She stroked him a few times while looking up at him through her lashes. "You've been so good for me, Raum. I'm going to give you a reward."

He nodded again, giving up on any kind of verbal communication. He was so very close now, and he didn't think his sanity would survive another interruption like earlier. He would do whatever she wanted, so long as she didn't leave him like this. Absolutely whatever she wanted.

She hummed a little laugh into him before her lips closed over the tip.

That was it, It was all already too much for him. He came with a strangled cry. Lena, surprised, drew back, catching some of his spend on her lips and down her chin. The rest was wasted on the floor and himself.

Twin waves of pleasure and embarrassment rolled over him then, and sadly, the former was over much sooner than the latter. "L-Lena, I'm s-sorry, I—"

She sat back on her heels, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. Her eyes were still locked on him, her expression thoughtful. "It's alright. You startled me something fierce, though."

His body suddenly felt very heavy, and very, very weak. Worse, he was finding it hard to appreciate the usual post-orgasm mental clarity, given how much of it was concentrated on his absolute mortification. "I-I was... I, you, I didn't expect..."

"It's alright," she said, swiping the last of his seed from her chin with her thumb and popping it in her mouth. "You have an interesting taste, you know that?"

He would happily consign his soul to whatever hell available if it meant some passing deity or another would do him a favor and _strike him dead, then and there_. He pushed his face back into his arm, unable to meet her gaze. "I d-do not want to hear that," he mumbled.

She laughed then, and at least he knew she wasn't angry with him. "At least I got a show. Come, let's get you up..."

* * *

_The obelisk was a tall and crooked thing of dubious origin, very much like himself. The Vyssian ambassador had insisted it was an artifact of great historical value, leaving the King with little choice but to accept it. He had it installed in an out-of-the-way corner of the gardens soon afterward, so that he might more easily forget about it. Eventually, everyone else did, too. Only Raum cared to visit these days. It was his personal leaning post and not much more._

_In truth, he had come out here to hide. Leopold and Eleanor had been having fits in turns for most of the day. The instant one calmed, the other started, and he was very tired of them both. At times like these, he gave serious thought to living up to the worst of his reputation. He doubted either would be missed. The King and Queen as concepts would be mourned, most certainly. The people themselves? Probably not._

_Sunlight rippled through the trees overhead. He closed his eyes, basking in it. He had been spending too much time inside, and he felt sluggish and irritable. Maybe he should just... Not be found, today. He could make up an excuse later. Few people dared question him, and the two who did never cared to hear the answer anyway._

_He felt the hair at the nape of his neck prickle as a general feeling of foreboding rolled over him. His eyes snapped open._

_The Elgian princess stood at the edge of the obelisk's clearing, eyeing him curiously. She had arrived for her usual summer stay a few days ago, with little fanfare; her novelty had worn off for the rest of the court by the second year._

_He couldn't recall her name. Sloppy of him, but he was responsible for a different set of 'children', and the younger generation was not his problem. He arched a brow at her. "Little princess, staring is rude."_

_She flushed, scowling. "I wasn't!"_

_Her hastily tied braid was coming undone, and her borrowed dress was dirty and torn. She had always been rather tomboyish, but surely she was well past the age at which young girls started to care about their appearance? Dorothea was sixteen, she couldn't be but one or two years younger. Actually... It was unusual to see them separately. He glanced at the path behind her, but didn't see anyone. "Where is Princess Dorothea?"_

_She frowned, but he could tell it wasn't directed at him. "She's being punished," She stared at a spot on the floor. "Anne was angry."_

Ah. _The youngest Illvey, Anne, was very like her mother: beautiful, charming, and most importantly, extremely susceptible to jealous rages. She had not taken well to the idea of Dorothea having an exotic new friend without something similar being offered to her, and expressed this by doing everything in her power to prevent the girls from spending too much time together._

_He was definitely not going to stay around for the next generation of Illveys._

_Fine. He had done his duty and made sure everything was in order here. He could ignore it now. "I see."_

_They stared at one another in silence._

_He suppressed a sigh. He was not going to be forced into entertaining anyone today, let alone any stray royal children. He didn't bother to keep the arch out of his tone. "Is there something you require?"_

_She considered him a moment, completely unbothered. "I want to ask a question."_

_He supposed he was going to be forced after all. "I'm not sure I'll have any answers for you."_

_She didn't even blink, which irritated him further. The girl apparently didn't understand things like 'tone' and 'subtext'. "Why are they like that?"_

_"Why are who like what?"_

_"Why do they yell all the time? The King and Queen."_

_Oh, no. He didn't have any good answers for that. None he cared to give to a child, fewer he cared to give to visiting royalty. He gazed skyward, careful to keep his face still. "I do not know."_

_He heard the frown in her voice. "Is that an 'I don't know' I don't know or a 'I can't tell you' I don't know?"_

_His gaze snapped back to her, but her expression was earnest. So she did understand subtext, after all._

_He decided it was better not to answer. Flicking his eyes skyward again, he leaned back against the obelisk. Maybe if he was quiet and boring, she would leave._

_"You aren't hiding from it, are you?"_

_He couldn't stop himself from flinching at that._ Please stop asking questions that could get me thrown out or executed. _He gave her his most withering glare. "I do not hide from anyone."_

_Her expression was doubtful._

_A warning pang in his temple told him he was dangerously close to losing the last of his patience. "Princess. I am almost certain you have better things to do than irritate me."_

_"Not right now I don't," she replied, gloomily. "Maybe you don't believe it, but you're the most interesting thing out here right now."_

_His anger evaporated in seconds, and he blew out a laugh before he could stop himself. Clearly, she had been sent along by some deity or force to chase him back to his duties. He stepped around her, lightly patting her on the head as he went._

_He didn't see her as she stared after him in absolute shock, hand pressed to the place he had patted her._

_He didn't know it was the first time she had ever seen him laugh._

* * *

Raum woke slowly, almost grudgingly. Had that been a dream, a memory, or a combination of both? He couldn't tell.

He found himself alone, curled up on his side in the kind of too-large four-poster bed that was so popular among the court. Morning was long gone. Judging from the quality of the light spilling from the gap between the curtains, he guessed it must be just after noon. Thus, he had either slept a short while and woke again on the same day, or slept a long while and woke the next day.

He had only the vaguest memory of how he got there. Lena had freed him from the chair, and—

His face burned as the reason why he needed to be freed, and why he'd been trapped in the first place, rushed to the forefront of his memory.

That had been...

It was...

He hadn't ever really...

Well.

_Well._

Things like that didn't happen to him. Yet, that time, _it very much had_. He was there, he ought to know.

_"It's alright, Raum. I'll take good care of you. Promise."_

She hadn't... She hadn't lied. It had been... Intense. Very different from those times his baser urges refused to be ignored and he indulged in some furtive self-abuse to keep them at bay. He shivered, remembering the feel of her lips on both his own and elsewhere. _Much different._

Like the painting that had flashed through his memory during the act, he found himself torn on how to feel about it. The subject matter was hard for him to approach, for many reasons, but there was a certain... That is, a lot of strong feelings were there, and...

_"Don't you dare. You're mine now, I'll play with it if I want."_

He yanked the covers over his head and groaned, suddenly feeling overheated and restless. He was going to stop thinking about this _immediately_. Lying here and trying to repress and explore his memory at the same time was going to give him a headache long before it gave him any answers. He would sort out the implications of the whole thing, and his feelings about it, later. Probably.

Actually, where was Lena? He peeked over the covers, scanning the room for her. When she failed to appear, he strained to listen beyond the bedroom door, but heard nothing.

He was very close to convincing himself to rise and face the rest of the day when he heard a clatter and a slam from the next room.

"I don't want to," a woman shouted. "Tell them I'm... I'm taking the day off! Just leave me!"

He stilled, putting every fiber of his being into listening to the ruckus through the door. That had sounded very much like Lena.

Another voice, of a similar register to hers but more heavily accented. "Great Flame, I know you are frustrated, but—"

"Frustrated is... A real understatement!" another clatter, another slam.

"Your mother—"

"—Probably sent them with me so SHE wouldn't have to deal with them. I'm staying in today, alright?"

The other woman's voice became quieter, graver. "My Princess... Please. I understand, truly, I do. I am only afraid that if you do not go to them now, they will come to you, and..." There was a pause. "I know there are things here you do not wish for them to know about."

His attention perked up at that. What things? He hadn't seen anything of particular interest yesterday. Horse things?

He heard Lena then, low and angry. "They can't."

"My Princess... They might, if it would hurt you."

He twisted towards the door, straining to hear.

" _They can't._ "

"Princess... If it would hurt you."

It seemed there were some flaws in the Elgian wing of the the alliance. Interesting. Could he use that somehow? He filed it away for later.

It was silent for a moment, and he was just beginning to wonder if they had left when he heard Lena sigh. "Fine. Fine. But let me just—"

"Princess."

A deeper sigh this time. Some rustling later, he heard two sets of footsteps grow distant, and the heavy slam of the ancient door to the outside.

He was alone.

He jerked upright, heart in his throat. _He was alone!_ He could escape. He could—

A jingle just under his chin immediately dashed all his hopes. The chain attached to his collar, which had been mostly forgotten during... After Lena last let it go, had been attached to another, much longer chain that spilled over the side of the bed and ended somewhere unseen. He wasn't getting away that easily.

He found he had unconsciously pressed his hands flat against the bed as he sat up, and that shouldn't have been possible. He raised his right wrist for inspection. The shackles remained, but not the chain between them. _Seems careless,_ he thought, taking in the fresh bruising just underneath them. Likely the result of his earlier struggles. _Does she really fear me so little?_

Perhaps she was right to. He had the height advantage, certainly, but not much else. She had been training for war since childhood. He had spent the near totality of his life finding ways to do as little as possible. Without his magic, he wasn't any more a threat to her than any of the other soft-bellied, weak-willed nobles of the court.

Rising from the bed, he found he was now fully naked, and clean of any remains of their, er, previous activities. Apparently Lena had finished stripping him sometime after he lost consciousness, and possibly even helped him clean up. He flushed, embarrassed and irritated in equal measure. Leaving the cleanliness issue aside, this was likely another measure to keep him from escaping.

A cursory search of the room revealed nothing he could use to cover himself. Lena had already cleared out all of Donte's things, but hadn't moved any of hers in yet. For lack of any better ideas, he stripped the top sheet from the bed and wound it about his waist. It wasn't fashionable, exactly, but at this point he would take any scrap of dignity he could salvage.

With that (barely) taken care of, it was time to take stock of his predicament. He was a firm believer in information before action: no good decisions could be made until the facts of the matter were known to a certain degree. He would further contemplate escape once he had a better picture of what it might look like.

His first order of business was the chain. He found it the terminus linked to itself in a loop around the frame of the headboard. Closer examination made it clear that both were solid metal, and he cursed Donte and his love of well-made furniture. Stupid nobles and their idiot excesses. Wood was perfectly fine for the rest of the world, why did they have to be so... Why did they have to be?

At least the chain was rather long. He found he could reach not just any point within the spacious bedroom but well into a few of the rooms beyond, including a rather luxurious indoor commode and a separate chamber that housed little else but a large marble bathtub. Despite his predicament, he looked upon this with more than a little jealousy. He had been the King's personal advisor (and more! So much more!) and he didn't have any of this. He hadn't even known anyone but the King was _allowed_ to have such things! Why hadn't he thought to ask?

But the room that really grabbed his attention was Donte's study. The large stained-glass window at the other end of the room glowed orange, green, and gold, save for a few panes of clear glass, which revealed a green landscape he was not familiar with. He walked towards it, but came to the end of his tether far before he reached his destination. He sighed. _Should have expected that._

Turning away, he instead approached the nearest bookcase. He found himself almost comically unsurprised by the contents therein. Care and feeding of horses, specific breeds of horses, breeding of horses, training of horses, horses, horses, _horses_. Not for the first time, he began to suspect the old man had some kind of problem.

Now depressed for reasons unrelated to his bondage, he walked away from the bookcase and seated himself at the desk. This item, at least, was made of solid wood, and it gleamed with fairly recent polishing.

He sat there for some time, turning everything over in his head. As loath as he was to admit it, he had found nothing hopeful in his exploration. No weapons. No reachable egress. No clear idea on where exactly the apartment was located on the palace grounds. None of it mattered, anyway. He was sure that even if all of that were set in his favor, there there were enough of Dorothea's soldiers between him and freedom to make escape impossible.

His gaze, which had aimlessly roved over the room during his ruminations, came to rest upon the clear and colorful picture made on the floor by the descending sun shining through the glass. It hadn't been there when he first came inside.

Lena had been gone for a while, then.

He still hadn't figured out what he would do when she came back, if anything. It seemed that wasn't his decision to make anymore.

_"You're mine."_

It was suddenly very warm in the study. Too warm.

He rifled through the drawers and cubby holes of the desk, looking for something to distract himself with. Anything would do. A letter, a bill of sale, something about _horses_ , it didn't matter.

On a whim, he felt around under the desk. He didn't think Donte was the type, but it never hurt to try.

He felt a groove there. It was slight, easily missed. He peeked underneath, but saw nothing in the darkness. On a hunch, he wedged a fingernail inside, bending it just so; a panel popped loose, and he felt some paper flap against his hand. Maybe Donte _was_ the type, then. He would have liked to know that before, but... None of that mattered now.

He pulled the paper out of the hidden compartment, bringing it up top for examination. The stationary was one he had never seen before, but so similar to every other idiot courtier's that he guessed it must be someone he knew. The handwriting, too, was unfamiliar yet oddly generic. His interest piqued, he began to read, only to stop once he realized it was _complete and utter gibberish_.

Madness? A cipher? If you had asked him earlier, he would have said the former was far more likely, but having found a secret compartment in the old man's desk...

He had wished for something to distract himself, and here it was. Even if this kind of thing was now well outside his job description, it might be worth the trouble to find out what the man and his accomplice thought worth hiding.

He would amuse himself with this for a while, either until he ran out of daylight (as he had found no candles or lamps during his search of the areas available to him) or Lena came back. She need not know anything about it. He had the perfect hiding place right here.

* * *

Lena was going to murder someone. Four someones, actually, and every single one would deserve it. If her mother complained, well, she shouldn't have saddled her with those awful women if she didn't want them dead. Maybe that is what she wanted! Maybe she wanted them dead, and that's why she sent them with her! Made perfect sense, actually!

She stormed down the hall to her rooms, yanking off her gloves as she went. Oh, how she would love to stuff one or both of them into any one of their mouths. All they did was _talk_. Boast, complain, bitch, moan, whine, wheedle, sneer, grunt, growl. They were just bitter, in her opinion. Where they had made their careers getting involved in the silly little spats between the islands, Lena had helped bring a whole big country to its knees, _then_ bring it back up, stronger and more glorious than ever. That's what _she'd_ done. _They_ didn't.

They may see her Door-given title as illegitimate, but she didn't see theirs as any better. As counsel they were worse than useless. Their tactics simply didn't work here, outside Elgia, where magic was a very big part of warfare and technology was quickly catching up. It wasn't a question of numbers and how mad you could get out here. It was so much more complicated. You had to _know_ stuff. You had to think about it, too. But they didn't listen. On a good day, they gave her a pat on the head and invited her to learn from them. On a bad day, like today, they just _bitched_ , and blamed everything that had gone less than well on her.

She _hated_ them. Every single one.

She came around a corner, and the houseboy that had been idly standing there immediately turned heel and ran at the very sight of her. She guiltily came to a stop then, breathing hard and heavy.

Alright. She was getting far too worked up. The burning was almost past her neck, and if she let it get any further, she really would hurt somebody. She didn't want to hurt anybody but them. Not that poor houseboy. Not Raum.

She felt a bit bad leaving him alone like that. It was well past sundown now, and she wasn't sure if she had left him anything to light the place with. She didn't typically need anything like that, being a morning person who often didn't come home until it was time for bed anyway.

Those evil hags had kept her out for absolutely nothing.

Once the burn had died back down, and her head had stopped pounding like a war drum, she continued on her way.

She reached the heavy door at the end, unlocked and wrestled it open. There was something comforting about having such a door as your own, but it was kind of annoying, too. It always stuck when she was carrying something, and sometimes it didn't close properly. It was fine, she guessed. At least it was free.

She kneed it open, finding the antechamber dark and quiet. The chain wasn't long enough to let Raum out here by design. She didn't need any of her own bursting in looking for her and finding him instead. Most of them weren't gutsy enough to take what was hers, but there were at least four who very definitely were, and if they did...

She really would kill them.

She continued to the main chamber. Rummaging around in a fancy painted cabinet by archway, she found the somewhat battered oil lamp she used for those rare times she did need a light. _I should leave this with him next time._ One lightly burnt finger later, she was able to see again.

Carefully sitting the lamp on the top of the cabinet, she began to strip off the outer trappings of her uniform. In a nod to her hybrid status as Dorothea's general and Elgia's princess, she had adopted elements from both nation's military attire into her own. While she would always prefer the relative simplicity and projected strength of her native land's leather armor, Illvey's uniforms had a certain charm to them. She didn't care for the buttons, though. Why did they need so many buttons? Did they ever run out of metal up here? They would eventually if they carried on like this.

Finally free of cloak, coat, and harness, she carried them to the very helpful chair from earlier and dumped them there. She would sort it all out later. For now, she was tired, and Raum was somewhere in the back. Hopefully he wouldn't be too angry with her.

She made her way into the back rooms, a little nervous at how quiet they were. "Raum?"

There was no answer. She squashed the initial swell of panic, listening carefully as she approached the bedroom. It was quiet, but not the too-quiet of an ambush. She poked her head inside, and was relieved to find a long lump laid across the bed, half covered. His lack of reaction to the lamp told her he was probably still asleep.

Had he been _that_ tired after they finished? A pang of guilt struck her in the chest, just under her heart. She hadn't meant to do that. It was possible that, in her excitement, she hadn't paid close enough attention to his needs.

That settled it. If he needed sleep, she would let him sleep. Least she could do, with as sweet as he'd been earlier. She'd join him later, after the last of her tasks for the day were done and she was ready.

She approached the bed, letting the warm lamplight spill over him. He was curled up on his side, facing her. The bedsheet was wound around his waist. She smiled at his need for modesty. A little silly, if you asked her, but Illvey men were different, she supposed. As much fun as the idea of refusing to give him clothing was, he probably needed something to keep warm. Not enough body fat to do the job, obviously.

He nuzzled into the pillow with an indistinct noise, but didn't wake.

She reached out and traced a finger along his jaw, feeling the prickle of his beard growing in. She could swear the man hadn't aged at all in the years since she first seen him. Door said the King had brought him in a solid decade before she had been born, and he had given an age of thirty-four then. If that was true, he was, what, sixty, seventy-something? But he didn't look anywhere close to that. Thirties? Maybe a really well-kept forty. He had probably lied, then. Young and inexperienced, he had wanted to pretend otherwise. Sounded like something he would do.

She took one of his hands and pulled it to her face, pressing her lips to his knuckles. They were very cold. "Good night, Raum."

He didn't stir.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> typical tween crushes: boyband members, movie stars, sportsmen  
> lena's tween crushes: ??????????
> 
> never look a vyssian gift horse in the mouth. never look at a vyssian gift horse at all


	5. Sweet Morning, Many Letters

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No porning this time. Sorry. Next time.

Lena was wide awake. A faint morning light shimmered on the floor, just under the drawn curtains.

Some people, she noticed, had a real hard time waking up in the morning. Door was like that. Took a great lot of noise and fuss to get her out of bed some days, and then she was near sleepwalking for the first few hours anyway. Lena didn't have that problem. First light, _bam!_ she was awake and ready. Maybe she just looked forward to her days a little more than others.

Especially now. She couldn't keep the grin off her face as she turned her head to the man beside her. Raum had twisted around in the night, changing from laying on his side to his back. He face was turned away from her, but she could tell from the steady rise and fall of his chest that he was still fast asleep.

She scooted closer, cuddling up to his side and nuzzling into the join between his neck and shoulder. She winced at the cold touch of the collar. _I should find a different one. Doesn't seem very comfortable._ She didn't really know anything about sealing runes, but she could find someone who did real easy. Also... It was kind of ugly. Raum deserved something much prettier. Something to match his eyes, maybe.

He still smelled good, too. She wondered how much of that was due to toiletries and how much was his natural scent. Magic had a smell, right? That had to be part of it, even if his was sealed inside.

"Mmph," said Raum, who then pulled the covers over his head and turned away.

Looked like he was more of a Door than a Lena, as far as waking up went. That was fine. She had nothing else planned today.

She again scooted up next to him, plastering herself along his back and slipping her arms around his torso. She laid a kiss on the back of his neck, where his hair had parted and left it exposed. "Raum."

He didn't move.

She lightly dragged a nail down the center of his chest. "Raum."

He mumbled something, but it was mostly unintelligible; the only words she caught were "letters" and "wrong."

Her patience was leaving her again. She had wanted to let him sleep, yes, but she also wanted to do a lot of other things, and she was afraid those awful hags from yesterday would drag her away again before she could do any of them.

" _Raum,_ " she growled, just before biting him where neck and shoulder met.

He woke with a startled yelp, immediately twisting to glare at her over his shoulder. His gaze was vague, like he hadn't fully left sleep yet.

She smiled at him. "Good morning."

He blinked owlishly. In a voice as far away as his stare, he muttered, "What are you doing in my bed?"

She frowned. "You really aren't awake yet, are you?"

He stared at her for a moment, uncomprehending. Then his eyes snapped wide open, and he scrambled out of her arms. Before she could do anything, he scrambled off the edge of the bed and landed on the floor with a loud thump.

She quickly sat up. "Raum?!"

"Umph," was his only reply. Concerned, she crawled over to take a look. He sat on the floor, still wrapped in the bedsheet, eyes shut in pain as he rubbed the back of his head.

Guilt stabbed at her heart again. "Sorry. Didn't think that would scare you so bad."

He glared at her then. Proper glowered, like he used to do at the King. The effect was ruined by his state of undress. Or maybe it was improved in some way. Yeah, she liked it. He looked like a cat someone had startled out of a nap. She wanted to ruffle his hair.

She smiled apologetically. "I really am sorry."

His glare lasted a few seconds more before he seemed to catch himself. He swallowed and looked away. "I-It's fine."

She patted the bedding before her. "Come back up."

He eyed her nervously. "I didn't mean any insult."

She raised her eyebrows. Was he afraid of punishment? He'd have to act a lot uglier than that. Might be better not to tell him that, though. Knowing Raum, he'd start testing for boundaries, and then she really would have to punish him. "It's okay," she patted the bedding again. "Come on, back in bed."

He still looked less than trusting, and more than a little flushed, but he obeyed, sliding back under the covers. He lay on his side, an arm's length away, and nervously scratched his nose. "I, er."

No, that was no good. She grabbed his free arm and pulled him closer. "Come on, now."

"Wait!" he yelped, pulling away.

"Come on," she insisted, yanking him close. Once he was back in grabbing range, she wrapped her arms around him and her leg around one of his for extra insurance. "I'm not sure what you're so shy about after yesterday."

"Lena," he began, his voice strangled. "Can we just... Talk, about this? For a moment?"

"Hm? What's wrong?" She lightly stroked his back, half for reassurance, half because she had been itching to touch him again. A high and quiet noise came from his throat, and he shivered. She smiled; his sensitivity meant instant reward for very little work.

"It's..." he trailed off, gaze becoming distant again. She guessed he must be thinking of what to say, so she satisfied herself with some more petting. "A-about this arrangement."

Yeah, he would want to hash it all out, wouldn't he? She raised her eyebrows, signalling him to continue.

"I was... Am I truly meant to be your..." he avoided her gaze, and she could tell he was casting about for the right word. He didn't look pleased with the one he found. "Slave?"

She hummed, trying to read his expression. He looked a bit on edge, but not angry. More embarrassed than anything, given the shade of crimson he had taken on. That was good. Maybe if she was kind enough, gentle enough, he would come to her without being forced. She had seen it work before. "It's a word you could use. Bit mean though."

The barest hint of a frown touched his lips. "A pet?"

"Bit nicer, but still not quite right." She stroked his hair, pushing it out of his face.

He scratched his chin as he considered this, and the sound of nail against bristle was overloud in the quiet room.

She couldn't help herself; his thoughtful look was one of her favorites. She planted a kiss on his chin. It was scratchy. "Don't worry about it. I meant it, you know. I really will take care of you."

"I-I see," he mumbled, still looking away. Didn't pull away though. So that was progress.

_What to do..._ She definitely wanted to play with him again. Lots of ideas lined up for that. Her eyes fell on the light pink teeth marks on his shoulder. "How's your leg?"

His eyes snapped back to hers, full of confusion. "My leg? What's wrong with— _Oh_. Er," his eyes darted away again, and he swallowed thickly. "I, er, haven't even thought about it."

Oh, good. Once the fog of her lust had receded, she had grown afraid she might have really hurt him, or set him up for infection. She pulled his hand out from under the covers, and gave it an apologetic kiss. "Sorry. Guess I got a little excited again. You were being so sweet."

Another high noise from his throat.

"Anyway," she said, getting up and letting the covers fall away from her. The room was cool, and she wondered if she should have put on a heavier nightshirt last night. She didn't typically wear anything in the warmer months, but it was cold enough in Illvey now that it was kind of necessary. "I don't have much to do today, and I was thinking..."

His voice was so quiet, she nearly missed it. "I'm sorry."

_What?_ she glanced at him, but his face was turned away in shame. _Oh. That._ She touched her shoulder, where the nightshirt's loose collar had fallen down. It was no simple slash or burn scar, but an entire linked network of scars running over her right shoulder and arm, down her back and chest. They were strangely well-ordered, divided out like the roots of a tree. As awful as the original wound had been, the healers Dorothea had set on her were more than up to the job, and it had healed very quickly and with no infection. Lena had taken it as a pointed lesson in not getting too close to a magic user in combat. "It's not a big deal."

He didn't answer.

"The younger recruits say it looks good. Real tough," she said, smiling at the memory of their overawed faces. In truth, she was oddly fond of it herself. "I survived a direct hit."

He flinched.

_I'm saying all the wrong things,_ she thought. _I have to get us off this._ She thought about the prickle of his stubble on her lips. "You need a shave, don't you?"

He looked back to her, perplexed. "What?"

"I guess you got one yesterday, right? I'll give you one today."

He paused. "You don't trust me to do it myself?"

She tossed him a smile. They both knew why that was a bad idea. "Really, I just want to do it. Come on, then."

He studied her a moment, then rose as well. She noticed the bedsheet was still wound around his waist.

"Actually... Let me have a look." She approached him and hooked her thumbs underneath the part at his hips. Best to be sure about things like this. Though, honestly? She just wanted to see her marks again.

He inhaled sharply as he grabbed her wrists. "Wait!"

She halted. "What?"

He tried to cover his panic with a look of calm condescension, but it didn't really work. His eyes gave him away, easy. "I can assure you, everything down there is perfectly fine."

She squinted up at him. "You just said you haven't thought about it since."

"Well, I... If it was a problem, it would hurt, and it doesn't. It must be fine."

"Raum," she warned. "Let me go."

He bit his lip, obviously thinking up a new defense. If she let him keep on with this, he'd have them stalled here all day.

"If you don't..." she began, pulling him closer to her by the sheet, "I'll bite the other one, too."

He released her so quickly, it was as if she really were a great flame. "Alright! I understand, but... Can we please leave this for later. I, er." He crossed his arms over his chest, uncrossed them, then crossed them again. "Later. _Please._ "

She hummed. Still so shy, like she hadn't seen everything already. Well, it was cute, so she would allow it for now. "Alright."

His relief was palpable. "Thank you."

Now she crossed her own arms. "You make a lot of demands for a 'slave', you know that?"

He winced. "I am very grateful, of course."

She gave him a sly look. "Of course."

He looked proper chastened, at least. After a moment of thought, he gave her a little bow.

She suppressed a smile. Now that was a rare gesture, from him. "Anyway, go sit in the bathing room a minute. Tub has a good lip on it, so use that. I'll get the kit."

He obeyed without a word. The chain rattled along behind him, scraping across the wooden floor. _I need to find a better way to keep him here._ It wasn't unusual to keep a man restricted at the start, if he really didn't want to be taken, but it had always seemed a little mean to Lena. She wanted hers to stay because he wanted to. _I'll keep working at it._

After a quick trip outside to notify a servant she needed some hot water, she set to looking for her kit in the main chamber. She'd bought it a while back on a whim. Had once heard somewhere that people who were very serious about swimming liked to keep themselves shaved clean, and she liked swimming, so why not try it? Didn't seem to make much difference in her opinion, but it did feel a lot cooler in summer, so she had kept it. _Raum doesn't need so much work, though,_ she pouted. _Lucky man._

She found it in short order, a fancy leather case containing the necessary tools and some soap. The servant came back at about the same time; it took both her pulling and him pushing to get it open this time. _Maybe the chain isn't needed after all, this thing is enough trouble getting past._

Collecting the kit, the ewer of hot water (how did they get it so fast? Magic?), she followed the chain into the bathing room, where Raum waited, seated on the lip of the bathtub.

Door had been very particular about which old noble's apartment she wanted to award Lena, and that had seemed a bit weird until she saw the place. First class everything, and the bath was one of the most luxurious ones Lena had ever seen. Big marble thing, imported from up north. Two or even three people could use it at the same time, easily.

_There's an idea._ She eyed Raum.

He didn't seem to catch what she was thinking about, because he only raised an eyebrow in response. "Is something the matter?"

"Nope," she chirped, sitting the kit down beside him and moving to fill the small washbasin with water from the ewer. "Just thinking."

In her excitement, the usual busywork of preparation went by quickly. It wasn't until she caught his nervous staring as she tested the sharpness of the blade that she remembered she had an audience. "What? I know I'm not a barber, but I d know how to use this."

"I, um," he rubbed under his chin. "Don't typically use a blade."

She almost asked what else he could possibly use when her eyes alighted on the collar. _Oh, right. Probably something magic. Burn it off, maybe._ "Well, don't worry. I'm good with this kind of thing."

His eyes shifted to the blade. "I do hope you're better than the last man who handled it."

She frowned as she turned the words 'man' and 'handle' over in her head. That's right, she had that to take care of. "Raum... When you were in the dungeons, who beat on you so much?"

He raised his eyebrows. "The guards?"

"Any names?" she asked, dragging her thumb over the blade. Yes, nice and sharp.

He hummed, considering. "One man named Alfred. I don't know the others'."

_Oh, Alfred is going to be Halfred, real soon,_ she thought, darkly.

"A-Are you sure you know what you're doing with that?" he blurted nervously.

She froze. Maybe having such thoughts while standing here with the razor was a bad idea. "Yeah, yeah," she set it down and picked up the brush and soap. "Just relax."

He let her slather him with the whipped soap, closing his eyes and stretching his neck for her. He seemed to respond well to touch, despite having been so prickly and aloof for so long. _Maybe he should've been born a cat._

She took it slow, doing her very best not to nick him. She herself, in her typical impatience, usually finished with at least a few; she didn't want that for Raum.

She found herself enjoying the task immensely. For one thing, it gave her plenty of reason to touch him. For another, he was so obedient. Whenever she had him move his head this way or that, he did without complaint, as pliable in her hands as clay. She was aware this was typically a servant's job, but it also felt like he was her doll, who did whatever she wished, when she wished.

She grimaced, pushing down a surge of want. _No, no, not now,_ no distractions! _If I cut him, I'll hate myself forever._

"Lena," he said, once she had cleared the area around his mouth and moved to his neck.

"Hmm?"

"Forgive my curiosity, but... Who were you so angry with yesterday?"

So he had heard them. She frowned. "Nobody important," she said, continuing her work. "Just some stupid people I hate. They hate me too, so. That's how it is."

He hummed, letting it drop, but she knew he wouldn't let it go for long. That was the problem with having him here all the time. It was in his nature to pick at and flush out secrets. She probably wouldn't get to keep any anymore, not from him.

She finished up quickly after that, and she was more than a little proud that she hadn't hurt him. She let him towel himself off while she cleaned up, and the jingle of the chain needled her conscience. If he had been awake to hear them, then he had been awake while she was away, and probably didn't have much to do during. "Say, Raum... Is there anything I can get you? You were probably pretty bored yesterday."

He eyed her. "Anything?"

"Almost anything."

He considered that for a moment. "This collar," he hooked a finger around it, "is slowly strangling me to death."

She peered at it. It was a flat ring, hinged at one point and locked at the opposite with some kind of magic-based mechanism. It was definitely ugly, but it was stiff and loose around his neck. "It is?"

"Not physically," he said quickly. "I'm saying that its suppression effect is rather strong."

She walked over to him, and touched it lightly. She still didn't feel anything, probably because she herself didn't have any magic in her. "Is it really that bad?"

He swallowed uncomfortably, as if her bringing it up made him more aware of it. "Imagine... If you could never breathe in all the way. Only, that feeling is throughout you."

She frowned. "All the way..."

He smiled ruefully. "I don't want to admit this, but I have been vastly overestimated. It is more than a few grades higher than is needed to keep me in line."

Lena wasn't stupid. There was a good chance he was lying to her, looking for a crack in his prison to wriggle through. Still... She didn't actually know much about magic, or sealing runes, so it was possible. She would just have to find someone who did know, and figure it out from there. "Alright. I'll do what I can."

He stared at her for a moment, as if he was judging whether his next words were going to land right or not. "Is it typical to... Keep... Is this sort of thing common, in Elgia?"

"The collar? Well... Yeah. Though usually they're much prettier," she sniffed.

"And these?" he raised his shackled wrists for viewing.

"Also prettier."

Another considering pause. "And clothing...?"

She laughed. "That's more an individual preference, I guess?"

He frowned. "The woman's, I take it."

She ruffled his hair. "My Raum is so smart!"

He glared again, but his blush did a lot to cut its coldness.

"I know, you're probably cold. I didn't think about it. I'll find you something."

"I have—had, a lot of 'something' in my rooms," he said, before a thoughtful look came over him. "Lena... If it is at all possible, could I have... Some of my books. Any of them." He frowned. "I do not care all that much for horses."

She smoothed his hair back, and was delighted to see his eyelids lower a fraction as she did so. _He really is a cat._ "Of course."

A sudden banging at the front startled them both. She gave him a look. "Stay here."

His curiosity was plain, but he silently gestured for her to leave him behind.

She finished gathering up the kit and stalked out to the main room, practically throwing it into the corner. She knew exactly what that was at the door, and she was _going to throw a fit._ She moved to it and yanked it open, too angry to appreciate her own feat of strength.

The same soldier that had fetched her yesterday was there, looking just as apologetic as last time. "I am sorry, Great Flame. You are summoned."

She forced the rage down. Even if she hated those _absolute hags_ , she wasn't going to take it out on this girl, who had never been anything but loyal. "I... Get it. I'm coming. Just... Give me a minute."

The soldier saluted.

She stalked back to the back rooms, finding Raum still seated at the tub. He was acting as if he hadn't heard anything, but his too-bright eyes and twitching foot told her otherwise. She sighed. "Raum... I have to go for a bit. Maybe not so long this time, so... Sorry. I guess it's all horses for you today."

He smiled at that, a smarmy half-grin that near knocked the wind out of her. "I see. I will survive."

She simply stood in the doorway, stunned.

It faded as quickly as it came. "Is something the matter?"

"No! I... There's an lamp on the table next to the bed, um. I'll bring you something to eat later, alright? I'm going. 'Bye," she said, turning on her heel and leaving as quickly as possible. If he kept doing things like _that_ , she was never going to leave again, and that was going to cause more problems than it was worth.

* * *

Raum waited until he heard the heavy slam of the front door before returning to the bedroom.

As... Unnerving, as it had started... That whole interaction had been rather productive. He had made his requests. Time would tell if Lena would grant them.

He felt along his jaw. That hadn't been as terrifying as he thought it would be when she proposed it. Regardless of his circumstances, it was becoming clear that she would never actually harm him.

_"How's your leg?"_

For very specific cases of harm, that is. He took a moment to inspect himself there and found the marks had persisted. The sight of them brought the memory of their manufacture to mind, and suddenly he had to _stop thinking about that_.

He stood before the bed, lost in thought. Although yesterday morning had been... As such, and so forth... Lena had been very kind to him since. Nothing about this morning suggested a woman bent on revenge, and he had been on the look out for signs of such. Even with the razor at his neck, he had sensed no malice from her.

_It is entirely possible she is playing a long game,_ he mused. He had seen such, back home. Relationships that went on for years, sweet as you please, until one half was found dead and the other married into a family of higher rank.

He felt a chill, remembering the unfortunate baron who had been found collapsed over a washbasin, his throat slit with his own razor. All signs pointed to the assailant creeping up behind him in the middle of his morning toilette and giving him an _extra close_ shave.

That was the reason he did not use them.

But if she was playing a long game, then... What was the goal? Humiliation, certainly, but in what way? _She_ was the one who had lowered herself to pouncing on _him_ , for whatever bizarre reason. Surely she was the one who should be embarrassed?

Again, he tried to remember any previous interactions between them that might explain things, give her a motive to go this far. Had he... Had he hurt her, in some way? His blood ran cold at the thought. Bastard that he was, he wasn't in the business of hurting random young women. Even the nattering socialites omnipresent throughout the court, he preferred to avoid, rather than engage. A somewhat malevolent-sounding "good evening" was usually enough to drive them away. He didn't need to do anything _to_ them.

He shook his head. No, there was no point in ruminating on this now. He didn't have enough information. He would just have to wait, and watch.

On the subject of information... He again wandered into the study, and seated himself before the desk. The secret compartment now housed the letter and his attempts at working it out.

He hadn't gotten anywhere. For one thing, it was a solid block of lowercase letters, with no clues as to the spacing, punctuation, or capitalization within the message. For another, this was no simple substitution or shift cipher. Even the more advanced techniques he knew didn't work, but then, he only half-remembered them without his notes nearby. He had tried for hours, and nothing even close to sense had emerged from the blasted thing.

There must be a key somewhere. He hadn't seen anything like that when he went rifling through the desk yesterday, however. All he had found was a lot of loose paper, some scattered writing implements of varying quality, and a ring.

He dug the last item out of the main drawer for examination. A fine silver ring with channel-set lavender stones. He had noted upon its discovery that it didn't look like something Donte would wear. No, the old man had exclusively worn the traditional gold and white of Illvey, sometimes with a bit of green as a nod to his own House.

This was not something he had bought for himself, then. Maybe it warranted closer examination. He took it into the bedroom, opening the curtains just enough to get a good look in natural light. (He certainly didn't need anyone looking in at him.)

There was a line of letters along one side. In alphabetical order, all lowercase, spaced at even intervals.

He should have known it would be something like this. Still, this was only half of the puzzle. A line of letters did nothing for him. There must be a trick to it.

He slipped it on his own finger and walked back to the study, suddenly on alert for anything else out of place. If Donte was lazy enough to keep one part of the key in here, then he was lazy enough to keep both parts in here.

He had already been all through the desk; that left the bookshelves. He began at the one closest at the door.

No. All horses.

The next much the same, and so was the third; he found his tether getting dangerously close to its end at the fourth. He wasn't sure what he could do if it was beyond his reach.

Fortunately, he found it on the top shelf of the last he could hope to reach. The one book in the place having nothing to do with the equine. _Alchemy Universal_ , as the title was translated. This had to be it. There was absolutely no other reason for the man to have this book; it was very rare, and Raum himself had paid out the nose for his copy. He pulled it out and flipped through it.

There, on the very first page of the third section. A series of light grooves, one over each line of text. Roll the ring, note the character, space, or symbol, and there you were. Likely Donte's contact had the same edition in his own library.

He returned to the desk. It took a couple tries, since he wasn't sure what letter on the ring or what line of the book to start rolling on, but eventually, he managed the first line:

> _cannot trust them. Their words mean nothing, they will say anything if it gets them closer. Oraela knows_

Oraela... Was Lena's mother.

Raum decided that he would very much like to know what she might know, and worked feverishly to translate the rest of the letter.

* * *

Just looking at them made her angry.

Door had granted them use of the King's old meeting room, the one with all the paintings and the big long table. Actually, _no_ , Door had granted _her_ use of the room, not _them_ ; They just thought it was for them, because they thought everything was anyway.

She had been seated at the foot again. The stupid little things they did to remind her of her rank. Pathetic.

Ulla, finishing up her latest nasal excavation, wiped the results on the tablecloth in front of her. "We should have more. They are not treating us well."

Ame, next to her, struggled to mask her look of disgust. She scooted her chair away. "Of course they are, they already used us. They think they can throw us away now."

All they did was _bitch_.

On the other side of the table, Yae continued to pick at a loose thread in the cloth. "When can we go back? I hate this place. It's too cold, and there's nothing to do anymore."

"We need to stay until they give us _more_ ," Ulla insisted. "I brought so many women here, I should be getting three times as much as any of you."

Yae stopped picking just long enough to sneer at her. "No you didn't, you just poached them from everyone else. It's not our fault you took on more hires than you can pay."

Ulla slammed her fist on the table in threat, but Yae only went back to her picking.

"Why," drawled a voice from the other end of the table, "Aren't you talking to your friend for us, Lena?"

Tanel sat at the head of the table, where the King used to sit. That was on purpose. Anything Tanel did, it was very much on purpose.

"I don't know what you want me to say," she mumbled. She hated them, yes, and she was very much better than all of them combined, _yes_ , but... They were important in a way she wasn't, back in Elgia. So she just had to suffer them, for now.

"She doesn't know what to say!" cried Ulla, slamming her fist on the table again. "Fool girl, we told you what to say! We need more! More gold, more weapons, more, more, more! She's so stingy! She disrespects us with her stinginess!"

Ame nodded. "The disrespect is the problem. We did not do this out of the goodness of our hearts. She owes us."

Lena's teeth were starting to hurt from the clenching. Complaining about Door was a favorite activity of theirs. Not just because they thought she was weak, and stupid, and not worth their time; it was also because they knew it bothered Lena.

Tanel gazed at her over folded hands, her silver eyes cold and hateful. She said nothing.

Yae's efforts finally managed to uproot the thread; she set to picking at a different one. "It's not like they need all these riches, especially not now. All the most important people are all dead. It's not like she has anyone else to impress."

"That's right!" Ulla shouted, with another slam on the table. "She should be paying us tribute! This country was weak before, and it's even weaker now. It would be easy for us to swarm up here and—"

"It would absolutely not be easy," Ame sniffed.

"—Shut up, Ame, it would! Who's going to stop us, the southern lords? They have nothing and are nothing. We would smash through them."

"And once you got up here—"

"They couldn't stop us! They couldn't stop us just now!"

Now it was Ame who slammed her hand upon the table. " _Because they didn't know we were coming_ , you fool."

Ulla waved dismissively, but quieted.

"It's not like we were the only ones at work here," Lena said, quietly.

Ulla's groan threatened to put out her hearing. "None of them are worth anything. Vyssians and their toys, Northerners and their cute little _charms_. The traitors were the most useless of all," she spat.

"No they weren't," Lena hissed. "All of them were used, they all had a place. You're the only person in the whole alliance I didn't see fight anybody!"

"What did you say you little brat?!" Two hands slam on the table now, and Ulla seethes with rage. "Do you forget who you're talking to?!"

"I wish!"

The creak of Tanel rising from her seat cut through the noise. "Enough."

It was quiet again, though Lena could tell Ulla desperately wanted to vault the table and wring her neck. She wished she would try. No one would get mad at her if it was in self-defense, right?

"Lena. Your mother sent us with you because she knows you do not have the necessary experience. Life experience. You do not know how to ask for what is yours. How to command respect."

_Ugh, gross._ She had heard this lecture a thousand times now, and it only got more annoying with every repeat.

"That means you cannot lead. You might have had some luck in combat recently, but you are not a leader of women."

_Did just fine out here,_ she seethed. _At least with people who'll listen to me at all._

"You let your little friend use you, and now you ask your countrywomen to allow her to use them."

"She didn't use—"

Tanel ignored her. "Ame is right, she owes us, and it is a matter of respect. We cannot let this new 'queen' get a big head. She needs to know who bought her this throne."

"She already knows," she muttered.

"She doesn't, otherwise Ulla wouldn't be screaming so."

Ulla slammed the table in agreement. "That's right!"

For a brief moment, Lena was very sure she, Ame, and Yae were thinking the exact same thing.

Tanel walked to the end of the room, just under the big painting of the wolf having a bit of dinner, and examined it. "You need to talk to her. Let her know that your hold on us is not very strong. Put some fear into her."

"You want me to threaten her?" she asked, disbelieving.

"No, I want you to let her know _we_ are threatening her." Tanel turned around. "The entire nation of Elgia is threatening her."

"You can't say that," Lena blurted. "You're not the queen, that's not your decision—"

She tsked. "She doesn't know that. Think, for once in your life."

_I think I really hate you._ She shifted uncomfortably in her chair. She would have to tell Door about this, but she wasn't sure how.

Ulla was right about one thing: Illvey was having a hard time getting back up on its feet, and probably things wouldn't change much for a while. The King and his favorites had stripped out so much from the countryside to feed themselves to begin with, it was like a house eaten through by termites. Even if the bugs were long gone...

Door needed time to sort everything out, and if Elgia started having tantrums at her... Lena knew the Vyssian Emperor's commitment to Door was true, and so was that of the smaller kingdoms of the north and those in Illvey who had sided with her. Even if this pack of jackals turned on Door, she had resources, right? She could fend them off. Thing was, Door had other enemies, too—They came with the kingdom and its history. The Fae Court way up in the North, the still-angry Southern Lords... The Red King of the West. None of them had bothered Illvey in a decade or more, but if one or more of them took the opportunity to attack at the same time, Door wouldn't be able to hold them all off, not even with help.

She _hated_ these awful hags. She hated their selfishness.

"Talk to her," Tanel said, turning her attention back to the painting. "You can pretend to be a victim of our whims, if it pleases you. Just make it plain. We will hear your report tomorrow."

The very idea of having to talk to them three days in a row made her want to heave. "I don't know if I can talk to her that soon."

Tanel was silent.

"She's busy," Lena insisted. "There's a lot she has to go through. There's a big line to talk to her right now. I can only fight up to the front so many times."

"Three days. No more."

Ulla didn't like that. "Three?! I don't have that long, I need—"

Tanel's head turned to the woman so quickly that Lena wasn't sure she actually saw it happen. Ulla's voice died away immediately. She fixed her eyes on the table before her.

Tanel turned back to Lena. "Three days."

* * *

It took him some time. Even knowing the main part of the trick, there was clearly some mathematical element he didn't understand, because he had to change the 'starting letter' several times throughout the process and could find no way of predicting when or how.

Regardless, he eventually found himself with a fully translated page, and he hadn't even had to fetch the lamp yet.

> "cannot trust them. Their words mean nothing, they will say anything if it gets them closer. Oraela knows this, and that is why she does everything she can to keep them fighting with each other. If they are only fighting among themselves, then they are not dragging Elgia to the mainland and fighting more wars of attrition. Remember the southern campaign! It wiped out many of the southern lords, and just as many Elgians. Absolute disaster, and they don't want to admit it to themselves. A war they don't win is a war they never fought. Somehow, it is an entire nation of female meatheads.
> 
> Donte, I don't care what she promised you. It is a fool's bet. Give her nothing, and send her on her way. You don't want to get involved. They will stab each other in the back just as well without your help. So long as Oraela is around to keep her circus going, the rest of us need not fear her rampaging animals. Tanel is no such ringmaster. Should she get what she wants, it is the rest of us who will suffer, mark my words.
> 
> Cease now, before Raum gets wind of your doings. He already had me chased out, do you think he will be kinder to you?"

He leaned back in his chair, hands steepled on his chest.

Interesting.

Someone he had chased out? He had never 'chased' anyone out. One of the few things he and Leopold had ever agreed on was that all men and women of consequence within the kingdom should live here, at court. Leopold wanted them to spend their every waking hour vying for his favor; Raum wanted them to know he was watching them. It had been a very effective means of control: Illvey did not have the same problems with upstart nobles taking power that the smaller kingdoms of the north did. They were far too busy and frightened to even think about it.

Leopold, however, had an overlarge ego and a temper to match, and sometimes some poor fool would find themselves being ejected from the court for no other reason than the King wanted to. Likely, Leopold had banished the writer in a fit of pique, and they had rationalized it as Raum Doing Evil For Fun, As He Does.

Well, it didn't matter. That wasn't the interesting part of the letter.

He didn't know who 'Tanel' was, but it seemed she might be one of the assorted tribal leaders still chafing under Oraela's rule.

Before she had used her boundless reserves of charisma to unite the islands under one banner, the archipelago had existed in a constant state of war: war between islands, war with the mainland, war between tribes, war inside tribes.

If Elgia produced anything in excess, it was aspiring warlords. They had been hated by those on the continent, most especially the southern lords; for when they got bored of lopping each other's heads off for fun, they tended to raid coastal towns and make occasional bids at invasion. What they liked, they took; what they didn't, they burned.

How Oraela had wrangled such people into one nation was beyond him. Elgian warlords did not seem particularly inclined towards teamwork. Yet, one day, the woman had stood tall and bellowed _she should be queen, actually_ , and... They agreed to it.

Not everyone was on board, of course; many of the more successful ones did not want to 'play nice' with the others. Unfortunately for them, they were in the minority. In the end, they all capitulated out of fear of what the joined forces of the rest might do if they didn't.

Thus, it wasn't a surprise to hear a former warlord wanted a crack at the throne. He knew of at least two attempts on Oraela's life that had taken place in the last ten years. What _was_ unusual is that 'Tanel' had apparently went outside for help. Oraela had been an anomaly among her kind. Not only did she not despise outsiders, she actively sought connections with them. Her arrival at the palace fifteen years ago had been the first time any Elgian royalty had left the island in recorded history.

So for an Elgian warlord to go quietly sniffing about for support all the way up here...

Very interesting.

As he did not have the first page of the letter, he did not have a date to give context to its contents. It could be years out of date. Perhaps 'Tanel' was already dead, caught in the act and executed.

Perhaps he would ask Lena if the name sounded familiar. It could be an alias, of course, but... It might not be, either. There might have been a very good reason for Donte and his friend to encrypt their letters.

He glanced at the stained glass window. A heavily compressed version of its design shined upon the floor; it must be past noon, then. It was a shame he had burned through the letter so quickly. He would have to find some other way to entertain himself until Lena returned, whenever that would be.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lena has a scarring pattern called a Lichtenberg figure, in case you want to image search. 
> 
> I don't have a shaving kink (no judgment if you do) but I do like giving her reasons to feel him up while also letting him speak.
> 
> I don't remember what this kind of cipher/technique is called. I think I mishmashed memories of several.
> 
> Wanted to get this one done and out before 11/3 in case I didn't feel like doing much of anything afterward.


	6. Fear and Punishment

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> heeugh... stress. 
> 
> I wrote this instead of watching election results, so that's where my state of mind's at.
> 
> Some not-nice stuff in this chapter. Unless you're a pervert, then it's nice.

Lena's first thought after leaving that awful meeting with those awful women was to go see Door. Even if Lena was playing into their stupid game by running off to warn her, she needed to know. Door knew how to navigate things like that. She would know what to do, and who exactly Lena should do it to, and that would be _that_.

Only, it was not to be. At least not today. Rana wouldn't even let her into the royal apartments, let alone anywhere near the queen's study. "She cannot see you today."

"But Rana—"

"She cannot see you today," the guard repeated. Her expression brooked no argument. "She has too much to do. You may speak to her tomorrow morning."

There went one of her days, then. She shifted her weight from foot to foot, considering.

Rana's dark stare cut through her. "Do not even think of it. I will always outrun you, Lena. Even now."

She grimaced. Rana knew her too well. That was the problem with knowing someone for near half your life: they came to know you, too. "Alright, alright. But.. Very definitely, tomorrow?"

The guard gave her a curt nod, her eyes still slitted in suspicion.

That would have to do. She stuffed her hands in her pockets and walked away, back down the grand staircase and through the Grand Gallery.

It didn't look all that grand anymore. Nearly every framed painting, gilded statue, and crystal chandelier had been hauled off. That was Door's doing. Said half the problem with her father was that he rubbed his riches in everyone's faces, and she wasn't going to do that. Probably a good idea, seeing how fast his own subjects had turned on him.

She stopped before a particularly large blank spot near the middle of the walk, noting the clear line between the sun-damaged and newly exposed sections of the wall. The empty space was definitely more boring to look at than before, but the paint's color was strong, its finish pristine. Probably something metaphorical to that.

A voice, loud and full of good humor, pierced through the gloom. "Is that Lena? ...Lena! Lena!!"

Her mood lightened instantly. She quickly turned to the source. "Louis!"

Louis's broad smile shone like the sun as he trotted up to her, waving like his life depended on it. A pair of soldiers, a Vyssian and the very same Elgian soldier who had fetched her earlier, trailed behind him. "Lena!! I'm so glad I caught you. My sister said you were still around, and here you are!" he clapped his hands on her upper arms in greeting, and she winced at the power behind it. "When I found out what happened, why, I thought you might be hurt!"

Louis was the middle child of the royal family, and the only male sibling. He had also, up until very recently, been the presumed heir to the throne. If the portrait hanging in the Great Hall was anything to go by, he looked a lot like the King back when he was young, with his wavy mahogany hair and tea brown eyes. Only, where the King had been as soft as any pampered royal, Louis was very much not. Years of devotion to sport had left him as fit as any soldier.

She liked Louis. Most people did. He made you feel like talking to you was the best part of his day, and that he would miss you very much when you had to leave. He had that kind of personality.

"You thought I couldn't hold my own?" she teased.

"No!" he blurted, eyes wide. "No, of course not. Only, things happen. They didn't this time, but they do sometimes." He was smiling again. "How are you doing?"

"I'm good! I'm good. How... Er, how are you? I imagine you were a little shocked, coming back to this."

"Oh, right, yes, I was amazed. Didn't know anything. Anything at all. Nobody told me!" he exclaimed, aghast. "I thought _I_ was being cheeky, taking off to Vysse for a while. Then _you girls_ have a coup! Kind of a lot to take in."

Nobody had told him because Louis had never in his life been able to keep a secret for more than five minutes. He wanted to, he just couldn't.

"Seemed a bit harsh, if you ask me, but I guess it makes sense. Father was not very well liked, you know," he finished in a conspiratorial whisper.

She indulged him with a smile. "I heard."

"Why, he was almost as hated as Raum!"

She frowned. "Well... Yes."

His flinched, looking a bit like a kicked dog. "Oh. Sorry. I know you liked him, Lena. That was terribly thoughtless of me."

_Liked?_ Door didn't tell him Raum was alive? If she didn't, maybe she had a reason. Might as well keep up the act. She looked to the ground. "Yeah."

There was an uncomfortable silence.

"Oh! Yes, this is Kaus," he clapped the Vyssian on the shoulder, and she saw the man wince as she had earlier. "And this, over here, is Una." The Elgian, who had discreetly stepped just out of clapping range while Louis was distracted, saluted her. Louis settled for waving in her general direction instead. "Thea said I should keep them about me for a bit, just in case. In case of what? I have no idea. But they're here. In case."

_In case of what?_ Did that mean Door sensed danger? Or did she just not trust him to wander off and stumble into a ditch somewhere? Could be either. Could be both.

"So! That's introductions then. Are you here to see Thea?"

"I wanted to, but..."

"Oh, yes, me too. Only got a few minutes, then Rana chased me out. I guess she's really very busy with," he indicated the stripped down hall, "all this."

Another stab of guilt hit her. Now that she thought about it, she hadn't actually seen Door all that much lately. She was probably hard at work getting things sorted out, or finding other people who could. Then here's Lena, here to drop another problem in her lap...

Louis, oblivious to her mood, chattered on. "I wish I could help, but I never had the head for any of this sort of thing. I suppose it's for the best that Thea grabbed up the whole business. Easily the smartest one. Er, don't tell Anne I said so."

Lena wouldn't, mostly because she didn't want to talk to Anne in the first place.

"Actually, I'm about to go find her and catch up. Do you want to come along? The more the merrier!"

_NO, NO, NO..._ "Sorry Louis, I'm kind of in the middle of something. Got to go."

His face fell. "So soon? I just caught you, too."

Oh, that hurt. Right in the heart. "Sorry, I have some things I have to do. I am happy I saw you, though!"

He beamed at that. "I'm happy you saw me too, and I saw you, as well! I guess I'll let you go then."

She watched him jog away, newly assigned guards in tow. The Vyssian was already looking a bit winded.

If she couldn't see Door now, and she wasn't going to be further detained by the hags, then she would go see about taking care of Raum's requests. Some merchants from Elgia had followed them up here. Maybe one of them would know what to do about the collar. As for his things, she would see if anyone would let her fetch them. Last she heard, his chambers were locked up tight, since nobody knew exactly how dangerous anything in there was. Surely with this many battle-mages strolling about, she could find someone who did.

She continued on her way through the Less-Grand-Than-Usual Hall, her schedule for the day now set.

* * *

Raum sorted through the small collection of books Lena had bought back with her, but found nothing that might aid in his escape.

"Wasn't sure what you'd want, so I had someone help me get whatever you had out last," she said, seated cross-legged on the bed next to the pile She chewed her buttered bread thoughtfully. "Lot to go through in there."

'Someone' was probably a mage of some kind, who would recognize what she shouldn't give to a prisoner. _Well played._ Very well. He had time to find other ways out. He gave her as close to a disapproving stare as he dared. "You shouldn't eat in bed."

She rolled her eyes. "It's fine. Not like I have a dining table in here or anything."

That much was true. Courtiers had not been permitted to dine alone, within their apartments; all were required to attend the King's dinner, and they were only allowed to eat after he, his family, and his current favorites were finished. Leopold had come up with that.

The man really did have it coming, in Raum's opinion.

"Aren't you hungry?"

He was absolutely starving, but there were other issues to address. Placing the book he had been flipping through back onto the pile, he couldn't help but notice something was missing. "Lena... Did you happen to find me anything to wear?"

She ducked her head. A guilty gesture. "Sorry. Forgot all about it. Got too hung up on books."

He frowned at her.

"Honest!"

No point in pushing that any further right now. He took a seat on the bed, on the other side of the pile. "Then I will eat. What do you have?"

"Oh, well, it's kind of a mess in there right now. Lot of the staff took stuff when they ran, and the ones that didn't are having to feed an entire army," she said, rummaging around in one of the sacks she had brought in with the books. "Kind of low on... Everything, really. It's a problem. But I got some bread, and butter, and jam... All the fruit trees are looking pretty bare right now. Couldn't find any meat."

He arched a brow. "That sounds rather dire."

"It's not ideal, but... What can you do?" she shrugged.

_Not destroy a kingdom?_ But he would keep such thoughts to himself.

"Here," she said, arranging some of her spoils on a plate for him. "Eat this. I have to do something real quick." She hopped off the bed then, leaving him alone in the bedroom.

He examined the offering closely. If Lena was willing to eat it, then it was likely safe for him to do so, too. Finding it more than adequate, he helped himself.

"If you want," she called from the other room, "You can put your books in the room with the desk. I'll just toss some of Donte's old things."

Apparently, even one of his lowly status was allowed personal belongings, and storage for them. He must be closer to pet than slave. "Is there nothing in there you want to keep?"

A lot of rustling was happening in there. Did she bring more than what she had brought to the bedroom? "No, nothing in there worth anything to me. Haven't even looked yet, honestly."

He finished his meal fairly quickly, but found himself still wanting more. He pulled the kitchen sack closer so he could have a look inside.

He saw Lena come back in from the corner of his eye. "Was it enough?"

Nothing remained in the sack but empty jars. "I will be fine. I was just..."

As he turned to speak, he felt her hands move to cup his face, and her knee sink into the bedding between his legs. He didn't have enough time put any of this information to use before she was upon him, kissing him senseless.

The kiss she had first gifted him had been gentle, yet firm; a calming kiss for a nervous man. This one was the opposite: a claiming kiss, savage and relentless. He found himself unable to resist it, or her.

Her knee slid between his legs, grinding into him just hard enough to force an embarrassing noise out from him and into her mouth. She giggled at that, and he felt one of her hands trail down his neck, chest, and stomach before coming to rest there. The other worked its way into his hair, holding him in place as she ravished his mouth.

He wasn't sure what to do with his hands. Somehow, he didn't feel it was his place to embrace her, or paw at her. He settled for leaving them flat against the bed. It was probably for the best, as he felt like he might collapse under her assault otherwise.

He soon lost track of time, only vaguely aware of her hands moving to feel along his neck and shoulders, sometimes returning to fist in his hair or stroke his chest.

She tasted like warm jam.

Just as he thought he might happily suffocate to death, she ended the kiss, pulling far enough away that she could rest her forehead on his. Her voice was soft, and full of warmth. "You really like kissing, don't you?"

He couldn't answer, save for some awful panting he would probably be ashamed of later. Whatever he had been thinking about before, he found himself unable to grasp again. Attempting to form any new thoughts was completely out of the question; all blood flow had apparently been redirected to his nether regions. He moved to hide this from her, but she grabbed his wrist before he could do so.

"My cute Raum," she purred, laying a kiss upon his forehead. "Hope this one's better for you."

_This one?_ he thought, still sluggish and overwarm. She pulled away from him completely and came away from the bed.

That's when he noticed the collar he had been wearing since capture in her hands.

It was as if a great wind had come along and blown away the fog that had overtaken his mind. His hand flew to his throat. A similar collar rested there now, and he could feel the sharp edges of newly stamped runes across its face. She must have threaded it though the chain as well, as he could feel it laying along his spine.

He couldn't believe it. The kiss had been a distraction. He had underestimated her _again_. Astounded, he couldn't help but gawk at her.

She smiled a guilty little smile, and fiddled with the old collar. "Sorry. My only other option was to put them both on and take one off, but I was afraid that would be too much. Didn't want to hurt you."

'Meathead' or not, she clearly knew how to handle _him_. Yet, he couldn't find it within himself to be angry with her. Here he had always thought himself above such things, sneered at men who were so easily led around by their own genitals... And here he was, just as stupid as any of them. Stupider.

But then, the woman who had chosen to pursue him was of a much more aggressive breed than the gentle ladies of the court. A lioness among does. He sincerely doubted any man could hope to hold her off, once she scented her prey. He touched his lips with trembling fingers, awed at how quickly and decisively she had subdued him.

She turned the old collar over in her hands, leisurely opening and closing it. The hinge squeaked terribly. "I brought another one from the dungeons to a merchant that followed us up here. I guess they're leftovers from that big war against the Fae some hundred years ago. Really strong stuff. She said it was a miracle it didn't kill you! Probably lost its power over time. Some of the runes are worn off."

Did they have such things in the dungeons? If he had known, he would have... Well, he wasn't sure. Used them for experimentation, perhaps. He wished he had, now. Maybe he would know how to take it off.

"It's not a pretty one like I want to get you, but it'll do for now. Should be more comfortable, at least."

He did feel a little better. Where the dungeon collar had made him feel as if he were being very slowly crushed from every direction, the new one didn't feel like anything at all. He tested the bounds of his power, but found he was still unable to call any energies forth.

"It's still kind of strong, since you were able to stand this one, but I guess the runes are different and not as... Pointy? Hateful? I didn't really understand what she meant." She scrunched up her nose in thought.

Once he was able to form words again, he chose his next ones carefully. "I see. It... It does feel better. Thank you, Lena."

She beamed at him then, and left the room, likely to dispose of the old collar.

That was two possible avenues of escape neatly shut off to him. He should have known it wouldn't be that easy.

She came back without the collar, and approached the bed to gather up the sack and books. "Don't need this anymore... Do you want me to take the books to the study for now?"

He was reminded of the letter. Maybe he should ask now, while she was in such a good mood. "Lena... Do you know someone named 'Tanel'?"

* * *

She froze in place. The happy light that had been bouncing around in her since the kiss went cold and dark.

There was no reason for him to know that name. Tanel was a big shot in Elgia, yes, but the politics of the isles were just not important to mainlanders. At most, they might know the names of tribes, and maybe even which ones hated which. For Raum to know that name...

Her skin crawled. Her gut _burned_.

She tried to keep her voice level and movements natural as she continued to load the books into the crook of her arm. "Where did you hear that name?"

His expression was all innocence. "Hm? Through a wall. Some of the soldiers patrolling the area are quite loud. Sounded like someone to watch out for."

No Elgian soldier would ever be 'loud' with Tanel's name. She might hear it.

Was this a warning? Had they somehow gotten to Raum, and this was their deranged way of letting her know that he wasn't safe from them? That if she didn't help them take everything from Door, they would take everything from her instead?

The burning spread upwards, licking at her heart.

Slowly, deliberately, she set her load back down on the bed. "Raum."

He must have caught her sudden change in mood. He became very quiet, and his eyes were watchful.

She leaned towards him, fighting off rage and fear. "Tell me the truth. Where did you hear that name?"

His pupils constricted, and he leaned away. "I did. Why would I lie? Is... Something the matter?"

The burning was well over her heart now. It seemed to pulse there, growing hotter with every beat.

She could hear the scream of her rage in the distance. It wasn't normally so clear to her at this stage; battlefields, as a rule, were loud and chaotic enough to block it out. Here, in this quiet room, with fear wailing along in chorus... She could hear almost nothing else.

She slammed her hand down beside his thigh, and leaned even harder into his space when he flinched away. She knew she was coming off as a threat, but that didn't matter. There was too much at stake here. "Tell me the truth."

The back-and-forth movement of his eyes told her he was trying to think of a way out of the situation. "I am. I truly am."

Why was he lying? Who was he protecting? Himself? Her? _Tanel_? There were some horrible possibilities here. The flames of rage were finally overtaking the frost of fear. She was so angry. At him for lying, and at Tanel, who ruined everything by just existing.

It was at her neck now, coiled around her spine and through her limbs. She knew she wasn't thinking right. That was the point of having been trained to be like this, was not thinking right.

He wouldn't meet her eyes anymore. "F-Forget I asked, Lena."

Her rational mind was struggling to keep up top, desperate to be heard over the shrieking. It pleaded with her: _He doesn't know. He asked because he doesn't know. He's scared. Don't do anything you'll hate yourself for later. Don't do anything he'd hate you for, either. Don't hurt our Raum._

She had to get it out of him, now, while she was still able to think at all.

"Raum, if you don't tell me the truth _right now_ , I am going to punish you until you do. Do you understand me?"

He blanched, an impressive feat given his usual pallor. "It's nothing. F-Forget I ever brought it up. It was only a passing curiosity."

She grabbed his wrist, just above the shackle. "Five."

"Five?" he asked, confused.

"Four."

He seemed to understand what was happening then, and began to pull away, scrambling backwards on the bed. "Lena, wait—"

She held him there, and the leverage she had between the ground and bed was too great for him to break. "Three."

His attempts to pull away became more frantic. "W-Why are you so angry?"

_I must be making a pretty scary face,_ thought an oddly disconnected part of her. The part that was still very much in the here and now pulled him closer. " _Two._ "

"It wasn't anything important!"

" _One._ "

"Lena, _please_ —"

She yanked him up off the bed, turned him around and forced him up against the wall. Twisting his arm behind his back by the wrist, she pinned him there with the force of her own weight. "I warned you. Don't say I didn't."

He was too stunned to reply, or do much of anything to defend himself. She caught sight of one wide, unblinking eye staring at her over his shoulder.

Hooking her thumb under the sheet at his waist, she yanked it down to expose his buttocks. If she had been in her right mind, she might have stopped to admire them, and the constellation of birthmarks on the right one. Since she was not in her right mind, however, she instead reeled back and slapped it, hard.

A startled yelp burst from him.

She swatted him again, on the other one. "Tell me."

He trembled under her weight, but made no real effort to free himself. "A-Are... Are you serious?"

She struck the first again, slightly off from the original spot. He issued another cry, high and strangled.

"Raum, tell me. Now. Where did you hear that name?"

He was calculating again, she could see it in his eyes. "I told you!"

Another whack, and then another. She could feel the heat radiating off the abused flesh now. " _Raum._ "

"I d-didn't—"

He got three more, one after the other. The last landed almost exactly where the first did, and it must've stung especially hard, because his knees nearly buckled.

"I s-swear to you—"

One, two, three more, four more, and she lost count after that.

"LETTER!" he shouted, finally. "A l-letter in the d-desk!"

She halted in mid-swing. "A letter?"

He answered with a noise somewhere between a sigh and a whistle, and gasped for breath.

A letter... Then no one had come here, or found Raum. He was safe from them still yet.

The burn was quickly subsiding, and her rational mind began to pick its way back, horrified at the wreckage her rage had wrought while it was out. She rubbed the last place struck, almost apologetically. "What letter?"

His trembling was so severe now that she thought he might collapse if she let him go. "S-secret letter, f-from... N-not sure. In the desk! In the desk..."

"About Tanel?"

He gulped in air. "S-some. S-she was... She wanted help. From outside. To... Not sure. Take over. From Oraela."

She let him go then, and gently guided him to the floor as he sank to his knees. He was panting as if he had run miles, and his rear was bright red. When he turned to look at her, there were tears in his eyes. "I w-was not up to anything, Lena."

He looked away, bringing his hands to bunch up the sheet over his groin and push inward. She realized the slight erection she had induced earlier must have endured throughout the ordeal. That would have been _very interesting_ at any other time; right now, her burgeoning feelings of guilt wouldn't let her explore the idea.

As the last of her rage died off, she was left with little energy to spare, and a great guilty weight on her shoulders. She knelt next to him, wrapping her arms around his shivering form. "Raum... Don't hide things like that from me. Holy Mother, I was so scared."

The look he gave her then clearly communicated who he thought had the right to be scared here. She found herself relieved that he still felt able to be insolent with her. She might have frightened him just now, but not enough to make him fear her the way some in Elgia preferred their men to.

She hugged him tight, and pushed his head onto her shoulder. "I'm sorry. That name... I didn't know what you were hiding, and... I don't want her anywhere near you. I don't even want her to know you exist."

He stilled in her arms, though he couldn't stop shaking completely. "W-Why?"

Should she tell him? She wasn't sure. He was like Door: information could be a weapon in his hands, and not always in ways that were obvious to her. Yet, if she was going to protect him, he needed to know at least that much. "Tanel... Is a woman of high rank, in Elgia. One of the old island lords, from before mother gathered them all up into one."

She hoped she wasn't making a mistake in telling him so much. _You chose a very dangerous prize,_ Door had said, and she knew it was true. No matter how many chains she might put on him, she couldn't hope keep him totally under her control. He was too cunning, his mind was too sharp. She just had to hope he judged her as less trouble to deal with than her enemies.

"She's here now, with three of her allies. Mother made me take them along to help, but... They're awful, they just want to plunder the place. They want me to threaten Door."

"Threaten her?" he mumbled into her shoulder.

She stroked his hair. Half to comfort him, half to comfort herself. "They want her to give them more in exchange for their help, and... Respect, or loyalty or something. I think they'll do something if I don't, and Tanel, she... If she knew how to get to me, to make me do it, she would. In a heartbeat."

He was silent.

She hugged him close. "I'm afraid they'll find you, and use you to hurt me. _Hurt you_."

"That is what that woman meant, that day. 'If it would hurt you.'"

"Yes."

"I see," he said, quiet as a mouse. His breathing had slowed to normal, and he didn't seem to be shaking anymore.

She buried her face in his hair. "Raum... You might think I'm awful for what I just did, but I'm not... I'm not great, but she is _so much worse_. They all are. Please, don't let them find you. Don't hide things from me, if it's about them."

"I understand," he whispered. There was a pause. "But, Lena..."

It was her turn to get very still and listen.

"Next time, perhaps just... Talk to me. Instead of... That."

"I'm sorry. I wasn't thinking." She kissed his ear. "I just want to protect you."

"You are doing a fantastic job," he muttered.

She winced. "I really am sorry. I'll make it up to you, I swear. I'll go and find you some clothes."

He shifted, pulling the sheet back up over his back end. "I would be absolutely _delighted_ if you did."

Rising from the floor, she helped him do the same. "Alright. Show me the letter you found."

He led her into the study she had been ignoring, and stood before the desk. Reaching underneath, he fiddled with something unseen; she soon heard a dull pop, and he pulled a sheaf of papers out. He held them out to her. "Here... The letter, and my translation. It was my main source of entertainment, these last few days."

She took it from him. One page was nothing but a block of letters, written in a bold and elegant style on fine white paper. The others, all cheap bits of scrap paper, were covered in Raum's more chaotic scrawl. His writing was hard to read, but she just managed it with some squinting.

Part of her wanted to bristle at the way the writer talked about Elgia. She couldn't say they were _wrong_ , exactly... Just less charitable than she would have liked.

She wasn't surprised to find Tanel was getting ideas about usurping her mother. Oraela treated her as a trusted ally, but everyone knew it wasn't sincere. A big show, just for the sake of keeping everyone calm. _Decorum_ , in a way.

"I wasn't hiding it for any nefarious purpose," he muttered. "I suppose I just wanted to keep a secret."

She frowned. Something didn't make sense here. "Why was she looking for help from old Donte?"

He stared at her in silence.

She flushed. "I-I was only thinking aloud. I'm not... I won't punish you if you don't know."

He shook his head. "No, I was thinking... Donte's ancestral lands are in the east, partially on the coast. Not far from Elgia's northern islands, too. Further, he was a very rich man. Much of the area's wealth comes directly from the shipyards there. He had a lot to offer an upstart like this 'Tanel'..."

That... She hadn't known any of that. Would have never thought about it. She had only known Donte as a prideful old man who liked to kiss up to the King. Of course Raum, entangled in the country's politics as he was, would know so much more.

He gazed at a point just beyond her left shoulder, his expression thoughtful. "I'm sure he was not the only one she asked. Aurine and Hilaire had similar holdings. And outside Illvey... The southern lords may be poor, but they would be happy to aid her if they thought intra-Elgian strife would keep the lot from raiding the coasts for a while."

The crinkle of the papers in her hands alerted her to how hard she was gripping them, and she looked down to find the the original letter's paper looking a lot less fine. She forced herself to relax her grip.

When she looked back up to Raum, she found him staring at her. "If she and her allies are trying to put Dorothea under their yoke..."

Then this was much more serious than she had first assumed.

A banging at the front door sounded, scaring the living daylights out of her. A hideous rip told her the papers were done for. She glanced towards the front, then back to Raum.

He nodded. "I will not move from this room."

Leaving the ruined letter behind, she briskly walked to the front door. Once she finally managed to get it open, she found the same Elgian soldier who had previously fetched her for Tanel standing there. Una, Louis had called her.

Whatever look had been on Lena's face when she opened the door, it must have been quite frightening, because the girl swiftly bowed in apology. "Great Flame, be at ease. I am only here to deliver this."

She handed over a rolled up bit of parchment tied with green and white cord. The complicated knot of the thing, and the fine silver beads at the ends, told her exactly who it was from. She quickly slipped off the cord and unrolled it.

> Daughter,
> 
> Come back soon.
> 
> You are needed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dorothea: wtf why can't anyone say my name right
> 
> Trying to write someone who is basically a berserker and not make them sound like a deranged asshole is hard.


	7. Movement in the Shadows

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Two chapters in celebration. Also because I didn't want to just dump a bunch of plot down without some porn.
> 
> Fixing some little grammar issues in previous chapters with this update, too.

_Is it just me, or is there a lot going on out here?_ thought Lena, as she hurried through the kitchen gardens. Her last minute detour for a quick bite of breakfast now seemed like a very bad idea. She hoped Door would still have time to talk to her when she finally got over there.

She was sure there hadn't been this many people roaming around the palace grounds since the days of its original construction. Most were soldiers, of course; half recruited from the ranks of the country's own military, and half those loaned or gifted to Door by her allies. Some were local workmen hired to patch up the damage done by machine and magic. Still others were remnants of the original palace staff. There were also those few nobles who had taken Door's side in the end, though Lena hadn't seen any of them out and about since the siege.

Yet, even with so many people running about, things around the palace had been calm after that one chaotic night. Too calm, if you asked her. While she had never been part of a takeover quite like this before, she had seen firsthand what happened when a town or city didn't want to go quietly. It meant a hell of a fight, followed by days, weeks, months, or even years of violence afterward. A win over such a place was never an easy one, and sometimes, it still felt like a loss. It wasn't like that, this time. Not in the capital, not in the outskirts.

She guessed a lot of that had to do with Door, and her way of doing things. Years of quiet coalition-building, months of strategizing, weeks of getting everything into position, days of waiting to spring... The end result was a near-simultaneous attack on not just the capital, but centers of power throughout the country. Every single one had folded, as gently and quietly as you please. Little trouble came afterward, at least according to the messages received from the countryside. It was as if the country itself had jumped into their arms, screaming "take me, I'm yours!"

That's what made today's frantic scramble so shocking. Most of the ruckus after the final attack had been in the reorganizing, reshuffling, and rebuilding of the place, yes, but not to this degree. Swarms of soldiers, running to and fro, moving equipment and resources. Her initial fear that there had finally come some form of retaliation faded quickly. She didn't sense panic from them, only a determination to work as quickly and efficiently as possible.

That they were mostly Elgians did arouse suspicion, however. She had just about made up her mind to stop one and find out what was going on when she noticed Ame storming up to her from across the way. The look on the woman's face could curdle milk.

Well, that wasn't a good sign. Or maybe it was? She wasn't sure. She saluted. "Ame, what's going—"

"You did this," Ame hissed, grabbing Lena by the shoulders and slamming her up against the garden wall.

Stunned, she could only blink in response.

"Don't think you're clever," Ame snarled, shaking her. "Don't think this gets you out of anything!"

"What are you talking about?" she said, angrily grabbing the woman's hands and throwing them off her. "I just got here. And don't touch me!"

"It's obvious it was you. You went running to mommy yesterday, didn't you? 'The big mean generals aren't doing what I want, call them back!' You are a disgusting brat," she spat.

The budding flames of Lena's anger were immediately smothered by her growing confusion. Did Ame get a letter last night too? "I didn't go to anybody for anything, and even if I did, even the Vyssian flying ships don't run _that_ fast."

"Then explain to me why Tanel and Ulla were summoned back? Is that your plan, to get them out of the way and take over here? I won't let you. Yae won't either. You're still our junior, learn your place!"

So it was actually Tanel and Ulla who got summons last night. She bit her lip, unsure what to say, how much to reveal.

Ame shoved her against the wall again, harder this time. "They won't be taking everybody, you know. They left plenty in our care. Your friend isn't _safe_. Have you even talked to her yet?"

A burst of angry heat blackened her good sense, and she found herself shoving Ame back before she could stop herself. " _Stop touching me, hag._ And no, I haven't talked to Door. She's busy, _unlike some people here_."

Ame drew back as if slapped. She narrowed her eyes. "I'm in charge now, brat. I'll be very busy keeping you busy after they leave."

Lena grinned. "No, you won't, actually. Because I'm going too."

The woman's eyes widened, but she said nothing in response.

They didn't know about her own letter, then. She briefly regretted blurting it out like that. There might have been some advantage in making them think she would still be here. Well, too late now. "So you and Yae will just have to entertain each other for a while."

Ame's eyes narrowed again. "Don't get cocky. You won't be here to protect your friend."

The thought had weighed heavily on her since reading the letter last night. Still, she couldn't let Ame think she was cowed. "Do you really think that just you and Yae can mount an attack?"

"With our forces—"

"—cut down by however many are leaving? Right up against all the rest?" She crossed her arms. "You won't have the numbers. How many of our own are you planning to have fried to a crisp, or blown to bits and pieces, or... Whatever else, just because you want to feel tough?"

Ame became quiet again, but she was clearly seething.

"Ulla can talk all she wants, but you saw what happened that night. We're strong, but not strong enough to get away with being _stupid_. Not up here. You know that. You even said so yesterday."

Trembling with barely suppressed rage, she pointed in Lena's face. "Don't get any ideas about pushing back. This is nothing, just a temporary setback. Your friend is not safe. Neither are you. Remember that."

Lena couldn't help herself; the woman was far too self-important. She stuck her tongue out.

The hag's nostrils flared. Her eyes snapped wide open, and her pupils constricted to pinpoints. Lena braced for a punch, but one never came; Ame only turned back around and left.

She spat where Ame had been standing moments before. _All talk. You're all talk. Every one of you._

Once the last embers of hatred had burnt out and her breathing slowed to normal, she continued on her way to the royal apartments.

* * *

Once she was allowed into the Queen's rooms, she found herself interrupting the most stressful-looking tea party she had ever seen.

Louis waved to her, as excited to see her as ever. "Lena! So you _are_ here. They let us in because you didn't show."

Door sipped her tea. "It was better to shuffle my appointments around than waste time. Do not worry, Lena. I did not forget you."

Anne stared daggers at her over the rim of her own cup, looking like the angriest little dolly in the world. "You are late."

Anne was the youngest of the royal siblings, and the only one to take after her mother in looks. Petite, with golden hair and blue eyes, she was a near total copy of the late Queen—physically, at least. In personality, well... As difficult as Queen Eleanor could be (and she could be very difficult indeed), she did have the capacity for love and kindness. Anne... Did not, so far as anyone could tell.

Lena didn't try to meet those gimlet eyes, instead letting her gaze slide to a point just over the girl's left shoulder. Anne might be small and delicate of body, but she was as vicious as anything, and you never wanted her to see the fear in your eyes. Never worked out for anybody.

"So were we," Louis added, cheerfully oblivious to the roiling storm of seething hatred sitting beside him. "A lot of goings on out there! Any idea what any of it's about?"

Lena frowned. "A little? It's what I'm here about."

Door set her cup back down on its saucer with a loud clink. "I am sorry, Anne, Louis. We must continue to catch up later."

Anne's gaze flicked to Door. "Why? Is it something we can't hear?"

"Yes," said Door, pleasantly.

Lena was very glad it was her friend on the other side of that icy glare now.

Louis nodded and bounded out of his chair. "Come, Anne, we should be off. I've missed Thea too, but she's very busy."

Anne rose much more slowly. "If we must."

The siblings left, and Lena could feel the prickle of Anne's gaze on the back of her neck. Distantly, she heard Louis wish Rana a warm farewell.

Door waved her towards the pair of now vacant chairs sitting opposite. "Sit. I think I have some idea of what you want to tell me."

She crossed to the chair Louis had left and sat on the edge. "Do you... Know? About the letter?"

"I am told several arrived from Elgia last night. One to you, two elsewhere. All tied in green and white."

Lena nodded. Should have expected her to know what was going on in her own palace. "Yeah. They're... Summons. Didn't say why—not on mine, anyway. Just 'come back soon'," she grimaced. "Which means 'now,' in mother-speak."

Door hummed acknowledgement and sipped her tea. A signal for Lena to continue.

"Ame thinks I set her up to do this, but I didn't! I had no idea. The last time she did this..." she swallowed, willing bad memories away.

Her friend stared into her cup of tea, unmoving.

She frowned. "But if something like that had happened, then... Well, she would say so, wouldn't she? If one of my sisters were hurt, or... Dead."

Door didn't answer, but Lena didn't mind. She knew what her sympathy looked like. Quiet, but warm. Door was a good friend, even if it wasn't obvious to other people.

"So I don't think that's it, but... I have no idea what it could be. And _I don't want to go!_ I don't want to leave you alone."

After some time, Door spoke again. "Is it possible it isn't genuine?"

"No. Raum asked too. We have a special knot, only for the family. We're always sure to get it wrong a certain way when we tie it ourselves, so we know who really wrote it. The girl who delivered it to me is loyal, too. One of mine, not one of my mother's or theirs."

In fact, Raum had been suspicious from the start, and had examined it with a level of scrutiny not normally seen outside of laboratories and jeweler's shops. She also had to affirm Una's loyalty in near ten different ways until he was satisfied on that end.

"Raum," Door said, looking up from her cup. "You spoke to him about this?"

She gave her a half-shrug. "Well, yes. He was there when it arrived, and, er... Well, I felt kind of bad, so I thought it might take his mind off, um, some things, from earlier." She looked away, hoping she didn't look as guilty as she felt.

Her guilt over the whole punishment thing had led her to spoil him a little afterwards. Not only had she put up with his nosiness about the letter, she also had a bath drawn for him... _And didn't even try to join in_. He was also allowed to sleep unmolested. A lot of lost opportunities, but she reckoned he deserved a break from her after all that.

She suddenly remembered Louis' words from before. "Actually... I've been meaning to ask. Why does Louis think Raum's dead?"

Door, who had been looking at her in a way that suggested she wanted to ask a bunch of questions that she didn't really any of the answers to, seemed relieved by this change of subject. "Forgive me, Lena. I made the decision not long after he was handed over to you. No one has seen him since, correct? I believe if those still remaining at court think I've put down my father's 'viper,' who menaced them so, it will endear them to me and make the transition of power go smoothly. Don't you agree?"

It made sense. The only man in the country who had ever been at higher risk of assassination than the King himself had been Raum. "So I can't ever let him out of my rooms? He'll go mad."

"Well... I assumed you would take him back to Elgia."

That made sense, too. "I mean, yeah, but... I wasn't going to go back there for a while. At least, I wasn't before the letter. I want to come back and visit, too."

"If that is the case... I will think on it. If he were to reappear later, in all his ghastly glory, after everything is settled..." she gave Lena a thoughtful look. "That might be fine."

Lena grinned her agreement.

"You said 'soon' meant 'now.' When will you be leaving?"

"I don't know. I wanted to come and talk to you before making any decisions, and I only just found out that Tanel and Ulla have been ordered back, too. That was the other two letters, probably."

Door stared at her, and she could tell something was going on behind her eyes. "Tanel and Ulla... Refresh my memory. Which ones are they?"

"Er, well... Tanel is tall. Black hair, going a bit gray up here," she tapped her temples. "Her banner is gray and white. Ulla is the white-haired one with the scar across her face. Blue banner with the boar."

Door nodded. "I remember now. What about the other two? The younger ones. Will they stay here?"

"Ame and Yae will stay here, and..." she scooted towards Door, until her back end nearly slipped off the edge of the seat. "I don't know if they're going to pull something or not. I... Door, that's what I needed to talk to you about yesterday. They want me to _threaten_ you."

Her friend's eyebrows nearly met her hairline. "Threaten me?"

She wrung her hands. "Something... Something about wanting more pay, and 'respect'. They said I should tell you that I can't control them and... I don't know, they just want you afraid, and willing to do what they want." She looked down at her clasped hands. "Raum thinks they want you 'under their yoke' because... Door, he found a different letter in Donte's desk, and it sounds like Tanel wants to take over Elgia."

Door stared at her in silence.

She swallowed. "It was in code or something. I don't really get it, but... She's out and about looking for friends, and there's no telling if she's found any or not. I guess Donte didn't? Though... Even if he did, that promise is probably null and void now..."

"Raum continues to be an asset to the crown," Door muttered. "I assume the other three are part of this as well?"

"I'm not sure. I think so. They were very definitely on board with the whole making you do what they say thing. Ame yelled at me earlier because she thinks I set this whole thing up, so I'm sure the others think so too."

A faint line appeared between her eyebrows. "Messages from Oraela take, at minimum, two weeks to get here. Did she send these letters before the coup?"

"I really don't know."

"Interesting," Her gaze moved to the window. "Perhaps... You should leave. 'Soon.' Tomorrow."

Lena nearly slipped off the chair at that. "Are you sure? What about the threat?"

"The commotion outside... My sources tell me a large number of Elgians are getting ready to leave for home. Tanel and Ulla's troops, I take it? They have yet to notify me of anything."

"Ame said they were leaving plenty behind though."

Door's smile was devious. "But not enough, I think. Do not fret, Lena. I sincerely doubt they will try anything just yet."

Ame had called it a 'temporary setback,' so maybe that was true. "Still makes me nervous."

"I understand, but I will be fine. You have given me a lot of good information today. I will make good use of it."

It felt as if a great weight were lifted from her shoulders. There was still a lot to worry about, but having Door say that... She felt better already.

"Now, about your trip home... I will grant you use of one of the Vyssian ships."

Now it was Lena's eyebrows that jumped up high. "Really?"

"With all of this sneaking around, I think it would be better for you to spend a day confined to a ship crewed by Vyssians than weeks on the road with Elgians of dubious loyalty. I understand if you are nervous about the idea, however."

"No!" she nearly shouted. "No—I mean I'm not nervous, I... Wow. I never thought I would get to ride one. Does it really go up that high? Up to the clouds?"

Door seemed to enjoy her sudden enthusiasm, at least. "I think it depends on the model."

Lena scooted back into the seat before she vibrated right off. An actual airship. Her up in the clouds. Amazing!

"You will be taking Raum with you, of course."

"Of course! But... Isn't he supposed to be dead?"

"Yes, exactly. Thus I will also add an unnamed political prisoner to your flight's passenger list. See if you can keep him fairly anonymous."

_I guess I will have to get him some clothes after all,_ she thought. "You don't think anyone will get suspicious if I lead a very tall man in shackles out to the dock?"

"Your flight will be scheduled before daybreak, so that you can both leave under cover of darkness."

That was a good idea. "Alright."

"You only said you had to return, not your troops. Are they to be left in your compatriot's care or mine?"

"Yours," she said, quickly. "They're under me, so I get to tell them who to listen to, and I don't care what those hags think about it."

"I see. Very well, then. Is there anything else I can help you with, Lena? I know I've been..." she frowned. "I haven't been available."

Lena studied her friend. She looked even more tired than the last time she saw her. "Don't worry about it, Door. Just... Take care of yourself. Don't work yourself to the bone. Can't rule that way."

Door's gentle smile told her she would do no such thing.

* * *

Raum was beginning to suspect Lena might not hate him.

It was, perhaps, a strange conclusion to come to, given what she had done to him last night. A humiliating experience, for certain. More than a little frightening, too. _Seems to be a pattern with the woman,_ he thought, reaching back to rub his still-sore arse.

Sitting was still more of a challenge than it ought to be, so he had spent most of the day reclining in bed, reviewing an alchemical text. (Really, save for the chained-to-a-bed-with-no-clothes part, today was shaping up to be one of his more relaxing days off.)

It was hard for him to stay angry about it. When she had embraced him afterwards, shaking nearly as hard herself, telling him that she was scared for him, wanted to protect him... Well. He didn't think she was _that_ good of an actress. She must have meant it on some level, then.

Furthermore, she seemed to feel genuinely guilty about the whole affair. Not only had he been allowed a long hot soak in the luxurious marble bathtub afterward, but he was also left to sleep in this morning. She had also put up with his prodding and poking about the letter, though it had been very clear how little she wanted to tell him about it.

The letter... She had insisted it was genuine. Yet, what incredible timing. If it came the usual way, it would have been on the road for two weeks at the very least. Was it connected to the 'Tanel' problem? Or the coup in Illvey? Perhaps Oraela wanted her home safe before the hammer dropped and Elgia went to war with itself.

Too little information, and no way for him to get any more on his own. Frustrating.

The familiar _bang_ -and- _creak_ of the front door told him Lena had returned. He rolled over on his side and propped himself up on his elbow, facing the doorway.

Lena came in then, carrying a bundle he sincerely hoped was clothing. She halted at the entry, apparently startled. "Raum! You're awake."

"I am," he agreed. She had been gone a while, perhaps she had more information? "Did your meeting with Dorothea go well?"

"It did, but..." she frowned at the floor. "Um. Raum... Listen. We'll be leaving early tomorrow morning. On an airship. For Elgia."

The book slid out of his hand and onto the floor before he could catch it. He stared at her, stunned. "Elgia?"

Her expression lay somewhere between 'worried' and 'guilty.' "It's... Some things have come up. And I told you last night, 'soon' means 'now.'"

He had a thousand questions to ask, but doubted she would have the patience to answer all of them. He would settle for the most pertinent ones. "What things?"

She wadded up the bundle, hugging it tight. He could tell she was thinking. Weighing her options. Just like last night, she was uncertain what information she trusted him with. A fair feeling to have, but still irritating.

"Lena," he rattled the collar and chain at her. "You can tell me. Who am I going to tell?"

Her look was doubtful. "It's not about who you'll tell."

"What am I going to do, then?" he sighed, idly wrapping the chain around his fingers. "I know my reputation at court was well earned, but I think I'm well in hand now."

She looked away, still hugging the bundle tight. After some time, she approached the bed, sitting it in the space before him. "I'm not the only one who got letters last night. Tanel and Ulla did, too, and they have to bring a bunch of soldiers home with them."

More incredible timing. Something was at work, here. For whose benefit, that remained to be seen. "You are all leaving at the same time?"

"Door got me a ride on one of the Vyssian ships. I don't know what they're going to do. Horseback and ships, probably. They're getting everything together now."

He scratched his chin. So that left the two potential traitors and a number of their troops out of the way for a few weeks. If Lena was being put on an airship, that meant she wouldn't be traveling with them, leaving said traitors out of luck if they wanted to intimidate or assassinate her. Incredible? Try miraculous. "Do they know why you're all being recalled?"

"I don't know," she said, frowning down at the bundle. "I only know they got letters, not what they said. Ame didn't say anything about it, so probably not."

Ame must be one of their names. Tanel, Ulla, Ame.

"Anyway... It's a good thing it showed up when it did. They can't pull whatever they were going to on Door, and I don't have to answer to them anymore."

He couldn't help himself. He smirked at her. "Ducking out on the final day, are we? Irresponsible of you."

She scrunched up her nose. "Not my fault that's what mother wanted."

"Making excuses, too? Tsk."

Now she glared at him, her arms crossed. "Don't you start. I have enough people treating me like a stupid child, I don't need it from you, too."

He raised his free hand in a gesture of surrender. "Alright! Don't punish me."

She flinched. "I'm not!"

It was a underhanded thing, to keep bringing it up. But what did he ever do but the most underhanded thing possible? She shouldn't have invited the Viper into her nest if she didn't want him to bite her occasionally.

"Anyway... I brought you some clothes. We're going to pretend you're someone else until we get on the ship."

He managed to prevent himself from snatching the bundle away and hiding under the bed with it, but it took some effort. "Why?"

Again, she hesitated. "It's... A lot of people think you're dead, and... I think that might be better. Since they would want you dead anyway."

That was true, yes, but he could tell it was not the whole truth. He eyed her suspiciously.

She huffed. "Stop that or I'm taking them away and you don't get to wear them until tomorrow!"

"You just said you wouldn't punish me!"

"Stop giving me reasons to, then!"

He knew when to stop pushing. "Very well," he said, pulling the bundle close and undoing the twine holding it together. He found another one of his more prosaic robes there, but that was more than fine at this stage.

"Raum..."

He looked up from the bundle to find her kneeling by the side of the bed, arms folded at the edge, chin resting upon them. Her golden eyes were fixed on his in a way that did not allow him to look away.

"No matter what happens, I'll protect you. You know that, right?"

He felt his face heat. A sincere pronouncement like that was enough to kill a cynical wretch like him. He forced himself to look back to the bundle. "O-Of course."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> you: stop introducing characters you're not going do anything with until much later  
> me: haha writing machine go brrrr


	8. Distraction

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *trolley noises* porntown. welcome to porntown. ding ding

It was better than she could have ever imagined. Takeoff had done some things to her stomach she didn't particularly like, but everything after that? _Amazing._

As planned, the ship had taken off in the early hours of the morning, with Lena leading a hooded and shackled Raum inside. Shockingly, he had allowed her to lock him up and lead him along without complaint, or any attempt at escape. Was it because he feared more punishment? Was he just so thrilled to have clothes on again, he didn't want to cause any trouble? Or maybe... He was getting used to her, like she had hoped he might. Maybe one day, he would really be _hers_ , and she wouldn't have to keep him restrained so.

The airship itself had been a surprise. It wasn't the spare military-style vessel she had expected, but a luxury cruiser meant for Door herself. The cabin she and Raum occupied was almost like a proper room on the ground, only with the bed built into the wall and most of the other furniture fixed to the floor.

She pressed her face harder into the window, watching the great clouds of steam spat out by the engines roll away into endless blue. The undulating paddles along the sides threatened to make her dizzy if she stared at them too long, but she did anyway. "Are you sure you don't want to look? It's incredible. Never seen anything like it."

"Ulp," replied Raum.

She turned away from the window, frowning. Not at him, but at herself. As excited as she was, she should probably spare the poor man a thought. He had hated the takeoff and didn't seem to care for the flying either. "Are you going to be alright?"

He was sitting in one of the immovable plush chairs, his long frame neatly folded up inside. The back of one shackled hand was pressed against his mouth, and his eyes were screwed shut. "Please don't make me talk."

She moved to sit cross-legged on the floor before him, laying a hand on one leg. It was somewhat unsatisfying to touch him through the robe. She really missed the feel of his skin.

"You do not want to be there right now," he muttered.

"Is it really so bad? It's not swaying like a ship of the sea."

"It's more the idea," he said. His eyes shut tighter.

Was he afraid of heights? She didn't think so. Then again, maybe it was just high enough up here to scare him. She rubbed his leg. "I'm sorry, Raum. Didn't think it would affect you so."

He shook his head, very slowly, very gently. "I didn't either."

"If you weren't thinking about it, do you think you would feel better?"

"I don't see how I can _not_ think about it," he grumbled.

That was it, then: she would distract him. She was still lacking Sybella seed, but that didn't matter. There were other things they could get up to.

She rose from the floor and walked to the bed. There was nothing special about the bedding itself, but it was surrounded by walls on three sides and sat atop a kind of sunken-in low chest of drawers. A series of what she guessed to be coat hooks studded the frame over the opening, and some short curtains were bunched up at either end.

It wasn't very big, but she could probably fit herself and Raum into it if she got creative with limb placement. She sat down on the edge. It was just high enough off the ground to sit comfortably. That would do.

She got up and went back to Raum, and found he hadn't moved. She tucked a lock of his soft black hair behind his ear. "Raum... Get up."

One eye popped open and fixed upon her. "I don't think that's a good idea."

She grabbed the chain that connected his collar to the closely-linked shackles and tugged. "That's an _order_."

He sighed, but obeyed, laboriously unfolding himself and standing up on wobbly legs. "Don't complain if the inevitable happens."

She smiled at him, pulling him to the center of the room. "Now, sit."

"On... The floor?"

" _Sit,_ " she said, grabbing the length of chain nearest to his collar and pulling him downwards.

After a moment's confusion, he obeyed, kneeling where she guided him. "I don't see how this is better than the chair."

She knelt down next to him. "It makes this easier."

"Makes what easier?"

Without warning, she yanked open the clasp at the neck of his robe and started pulling it down over his shoulders.

"L-Lena?!" he yelped, pulling away.

Again, she grabbed the chain at his collar. "Don't you dare. Stay still."

"Here?! _Now?!_ " he hissed, though he let her pull him back.

"Here. Now," she agreed, pulling the robe down to his waist. The chains didn't allow her to take the entire thing off, but this was fine for what she had planned.

He shivered, though whether it was from the cold of the cabin or otherwise, she couldn't tell.

She took a moment to admire him, running her hands over his chest. His skin was smooth, and cool to the touch, just like the first time she had played with him.

"L-Lena. I don't think now is the time..."

She hushed him, a finger laid on his lips. "You're mine, remember? I decide when the right time is."

He twitched at that, then turned his rapidly reddening face away. His hands were planted on the floor between his folded legs, the chain connecting his shackles and collar taut.

She slid her arms over his shoulders. "Do you like it when I tell you you're mine?"

He didn't answer, but she could guess from the tint of his ears.

She laid a kiss on the side of his neck, just above the collar. "I've been thinking... I want others to know you're mine, too."

"Seems f-fairly obvious to me."

Grabbing the collar with one hand and pulling him closer, she studied his neck. Long, pale, and elegant, she found herself reminded of a swan. She laid a kiss in the soft place over his jugular, feeling it pulse quickly under her lips. "No... Not yet."

A high noise escaped through his nose. "Not s-sure what else is needed."

Here was this oblivious man, telling her what he thought was obvious? Keeping her grip on the collar, she fisted her other hand in his hair. She would show him what was needed.

He let out a yelp of pain as her teeth sank into the side of his neck. "W-What are you doing?!"

She held onto him for a few seconds more, half to make sure the mark took, half because he tasted so good. "Marking you up. They have to know you're taken."

"M-Marking? Who needs to—" he cut off with another cry of pain, and she felt him tremble underneath her.

Once she let go, she pulled back to inspect her work. The marks were a series of clear, red stripes painted across blank canvas. A good start, but not enough.

He made as if to pull out of her grasp, but she only tightened her grip on his collar and hair. He whimpered in response.

"It's alright," she whispered, peppering the marks with little kisses. "I'm not doing it to hurt you. Just be patient."

He let out another little whimper at that, but made no more moves to get away.

She nuzzled at his throat, smelling the bath oil from the other night on him, and that familiar smell of magic, like a thunderstorm. She was glad the collar didn't get rid of that, at least.

She found a tragically unmarked patch of throat and went back to work. Soon she decided to give the bites a rest, and instead sucked on the delicate skin, hard enough to bruise.

"A-Ah? W-What is that," he squeaked.

She giggled. "You don't know what a hickey is?"

Somehow, he found enough wounded pride within himself to override his usual bashful shyness. "O-Of course I know what—I know w-what it is!"

She laid another feather-light kiss on top of the rapidly bruising skin. "Have you ever gotten one before?"

She felt him swallow. "It hasn't c-come up."

"Amazing," she murmured into his throat. "It's like your neck was made for it." She gave him another one, right next to the first.

She very much enjoyed the shuddering "hah" he let out at that.

She continued marking him for some time, even after she noticed him furtively pressing his shackled wrists back into his groin. She would get to that in time, anyway.

A number of hickies and a few more bites later, she was satisfied. She dared anyone to see her work and try to tell her he looked free to take.

Already he was flushed and panting. He tried his best to look at her, though she had his face twisted up and away. "A-Are you finished?"

She let go of his hair, and stood up. "With this, yes."

He made as if to do the same, but stopped when she caught his shoulder and pushed him back down.

"Stay," she said, admiring him. Kneeling on the floor like that, with his neck and shoulders all marked up, panting and weak... The Holy Mother had really blessed her, hadn't she? Not for the first time, she wondered why no one else in Illvey had seemed to notice how lovely he was. Under all that hiss and snarl, he was one of the prettiest things she had ever seen. The instant she first caught sight of him, no other male had aroused her interest so.

Well, maybe it was for the best. Now he was hers.

He whined softly, and she noticed him continuing to press back into his groin. She stepped on the small length of chain between the shackles, scraping her boot back and dragging his hands away. "No, don't do that. Hands on the floor."

He looked up at her, and she could see the need in his eyes. His lower lip quivered. "Is t-this... Another one of your g-games?"

She stroked his hair again, gentle and fond. "A little? Don't worry. It won't last forever."

He slowly shut his eyes, letting out another shuddering breath as he did so.

She moved back towards the bed, leaving him where he was. With ruthless efficiency, she kicked off her boots and stripped herself of her pants and underthings. Felt a bit silly to keep her shirt and coat on, so she went ahead and chucked that too. Now naked as the day she was born, she took a set on the edge of the bed, spreading her legs enough to make it clear what she expected next. "Now... Come here."

He opened his eyes again, and the double take he did once he sighted her was so funny it hurt to keep her laughter in. He immediately turned his face away.

"Come on now. I've already seen all of you, it's fine if you see me, right?"

She heard a few abortive attempts at speech from him, but he gave up fairly quickly.

This was a dirty trick, but in her experience, it always worked. Especially on older men. "Raum... Am I really so hideous?"

"No!" he blurted, but he still didn't look her way. "I was... Don't think..."

"So don't think. _Come here._ "

He slowly turned to look at her, but made no move to approach.

She beckoned him with a finger. "Come here."

He glanced at his hands.

That's right, she told him to keep his hands on the ground. She felt a little thrill, knowing he was so keen to obey her order. "Crawl to me. You know what I want you to do, right?"

His eyes shifted to her again.

"Come over here, Raum."

For a moment, she thought she might have to get up and drag him over, as his eyes darted back and forth from her to a place on the floor just before him. She was about to do just that when he finally started crawling towards the bed. He didn't look at her as he did so, instead keeping his eyes on the floor.

He came to a stop just before her and settled there, his head still hung in shame. She noticed his hands were still flat against the floor between his outspread knees.

Again the thrill of his submission coursed through her. It was getting harder for her to not just pounce on him. "Look at me."

He did, by degrees, and with obvious effort.

She reached down and spread herself open to him. "Come, now. I did the same for you, remember?"

He stared at her spread lips for a moment, transfixed. "I... I don't know how..."

Not unusual for mainlander men, sadly. "I'll guide you. Only try."

Flicking his gaze up to her one last time, he moved closer. As he settled between her legs with hands still flat on the floor, he pushed his face between her legs.

Much like his kisses, his oral skills were that of a novice: hesitant and unsure. Fortunately, it didn't seem that this was due to any revulsion or disinterest on his part, only caution and uncertainty. Room for improvement, but improvement was more than possible.

She felt him caress her inner folds with his tongue, and she was sure to encourage him with petting and praise. "It feels good, keep going. You're clever, you'll figure it out."

Seeming to take courage from this, his exploration of her became bolder and more thorough. She even felt his tongue dip _into_ her, she that earned him some prime petting indeed. Even if he was a beginner, she had to give him credit. He was paying attention, and anything she said felt good, he concentrated his efforts on.

She felt giddy. For obvious reasons, yes, but also because her Raum was turning out to be such a treasure. Pretty, clever, obedient, and eager to please? She had always hated waiting, but the wait to have him had been more than worth it.

She felt him flick at her clit with his tongue, and an electric jolt on par with the literal one he had sent through her shoulder rocked through her. She fisted a hand in his hair, overcome with delight. He really was so clever. "Very good, just like that."

That was enough to let him know where his main target lay. He redoubled his efforts there, licking and sucking with wild abandon. She bit her lip, forcing her hand to let go of his hair. It wouldn't do to yank it all out at climax.... Shame it would be over so soon, but if she was already this far up the hill, she might as well keep going.

It didn't take long; she should have known he would be a quick study. She was distantly aware of her fist crashing into the wall over the head of the bed, and Raum continuing his assault even as she headed over the edge. She came, hard.

As the last wave of her orgasm washed away, she opened her eyes to find a man utterly wrecked. The dazed look from their first time was back, and his eyes appeared to focus on a point far beyond the floor he was staring at. Almost absentmindedly, he raised his arms and wiped some of the wetness from his chin off on his shoulder.

That had been fun, but it wasn't over. Not for him, anyway. She scooted back on the bed; now that it was no longer necessary to give him access, she could get herself comfortable for the next part.

He peered at her from underneath his lashes, gaze hazy. "Was it a-alright?"

She couldn't help but smile at that. "Oh, yes. That sharp tongue of yours is a lot of fun, actually."

"I see," he breathed, and hung his head once more.

She noticed his hands pulling back between his legs again. "Don't do that. Don't touch until I say so."

He flinched, pushing his them back out a fraction.

She stared at him, taking in the shiver that traveled along his body, the trembling in his too-stiff arms. She could hear the whisper of his stuttering little breaths.

The hickeys and bite marks were coming along nicely, from what she could see. Those would last a good long time.

His hands started to surreptitiously drag back. She stifled a giggle, and once sure it wouldn't break through, put on her most authoritative voice. " _Raum._ I didn't say you could."

He halted again, and a near-silent whine came from him. "W-Why?"

_Because I like seeing you so sweet and needy,_ she thought. She wouldn't say so now, though. She would wait for a time when he was being a brat and use it to turn him red and shy again. She grinned at the thought. He was quite easy to handle, once you figured it out.

Again he peered up at her. "L-Lena. Why?"

"Does it matter?" she asked, forcing herself to sound nonchalant. "If I say you can't, you can't. That's how it is. Mine, remember?"

He screwed his eyes shut and hunched his back, as if it were a massive undertaking to stay still. He mumbled something under his breath.

"Did you say something?" she prompted. She had a feeling that she knew exactly what it was, and she would _kill_ to hear it louder.

She heard him swallow, but he didn't say it.

"If you don't tell me, I really won't let you."

He whined.

"Hm?"

"Please," he mumbled, just loud enough to hear.

"Please? Please what?"

"Please... Let me..." he gulped in a great breath. "Let me finish."

"Look at me when you're talking," she said, fighting off a grin.

With what looked like great effort, he raised his head and looked into her eyes. His own were wet and shining. "Lena, _please_."

"Well... You were very good just now. I might let you."

He blinked, and a tear escaped from the corner of one eye. " _Please._ "

He was probably close to his breaking point, though Lena wasn't quite sure where exactly that was yet. She would figure it out eventually, but for now... "On one condition."

She had his complete attention then.

She reached out a leg and traced a toe up along his inner thigh. "I want to see you do it."

"...Me?"

She grinned, and crossed her legs again. "Yeah. Put on a little show for me. Sexy, like."

The dreamy look in his eyes persisted, but his expression became almost comically bewildered.

"No? You won't? It's the only way I'll let you."

He looked down at himself, and she could tell he was thinking about it.

She drew little circles in the air with her toe. "Go on, lovely Raum. Give me a show."

"I-I d-don't understand... What you m-mean by 'a show.'"

It was a shame. The things they taught people in Illvey... Plenty of handsome men, and none of them knew how to use their looks. Too afraid of looking weak.

She sat back, thinking. How to explain this? "I mean... Take care of it, but slow, and make it look good for me. Let me see everything. Maybe touch yourself elsewhere."

He glanced at her. "E-Elsewhere?"

"Stroke your chest, or play with your nipples. Or..." she paused. There were other places, but she wasn't sure how he would take that yet. She might have to slowly introduce him to the idea. Mainlander men really were weird.

He returned to staring down at himself. For a moment, it looked as if he might do as she asked, as he began to free himself from the confines of his robes. Once he had his cock in hand, however, he froze. His expression became more and more mortified with every passing second, and he suddenly hunched over again. He let go of himself and put his hands back on the floor. "W-What you ask... I can't."

She laughed. "Why not?"

He shook his head, unable to answer.

"Is it really so embarrassing?"

Again, he was silent.

Something else they would have to work on, she guessed. A shame. His bashfulness was quite cute, though. A decent consolation prize for now.

She heard him whine, and her resolve started to break. Hard to deny him when he got like this. It was probably a good thing he never figured out his own appeal. If he had, he would have been able to weaponize this against anyone, and he very much would have.

His voice was nearly inaudible. "I can't. I can't..."

She was really too permissive with him, but... No, she was done with bullying for the day. She would reward him for a job well done, and she wanted to touch him anyway. "Alright. Here's what we'll do. This one time, I'll take care of it for you. But next time? I want a show."

He looked up at her again.

"Come on. Into my lap." She patted the tops of her thighs.

He didn't look any more comfortable with that idea than with the show she had wanted.

She gave him a sly look. "If you don't, I'll keep you hard and needy through the rest of the flight. Don't think I won't."

His gaze rose heavenward. She thought he might be difficult about it, but he soon rose from the floor and straddled her legs. He covered his face with his hands.

She needed to do something about that. He had done enough hiding the last time she had him. Suddenly remembering the coat hooks, she had a brilliant idea.

She pulled his hands away from his face. "No hiding today. In fact... Look up. You see those hooks? Hook these over one."

He quickly glanced upwards, then back to her. His expression was more than a little dubious.

"Go on."

"Is... Is it n-necessary?"

She frowned. "Is your coming necessary?"

Again he looked upward, and after a second, complied. She heard the clink of the chain settling within the metal hook. His arms were left hanging slightly bent at the elbows. Hopefully it was as strong as it looked.

She ran her hands along his sides, enjoying the dip-and-bow of his ribs in particular. "Good. Don't try to take them down until I say so. Alright?"

He nodded, but his eyes were averted.

Once her hands reached his hips, she brought them back up, over his stomach and chest. His breathing was as fast as his heartbeat, and he felt much warmer to the touch than he had earlier.

"Y-You don't have to... You don't n-need to bother with that."

She laughed. "It isn't for you, it's for me."

He turned his face away. "I don't s-see the appeal."

"That's fine," she nearly sang. Since he was distracted, she took the opportunity to tweak his nipples.

He hiccuped and jerked back, making the chain and hook clang together like a bell.

"Careful," she warned, still latched on. "Don't unhook that."

His trembling was worse now. He still wouldn't look at her. "Lena, _please._ "

Giving them a final tug, she let go. "Alright, but we're revisiting that later." She turned her attention to his cock, jutting proudly out from the dark of his robes. She took him in hand, but only exerted the lightest pressure as she pumped him.

Unconsciously, he started to move his hips along with her motions. Soon, his breath hitched, and she knew it was time. She let go then, letting her hands fall on either side of her thighs, flat against the bed.

That seemed to bring him back to reality. He suddenly whirled to look at her, eyes wild and desperate. "Why d-did you stop?"

"Because I wanted to," she answered with a smile.

He stared at her, looking utterly bereft.

"Do you want me to keep going?"

He nodded frantically. He must be close enough to orgasm to forget his shyness.

She leaned back. "Then beg me, pretty Raum."

He closed his eyes again. After a minute, he spoke. "P-Please."

She said nothing.

"Please, j-just... L-Let me come. I'll n-never.. I'll do w-whatever you ask, w-whenever, just let me. Please. _Please._."

She grinned. "That's a dangerous promise, you know."

He either didn't hear her or didn't care. He took another big breath, but it sounded like a sob this time. "Please, Lena. W-Whatever you ask."

She gripped him again, just as lightly. "Alright, but only because you asked so nicely."

It continued for a while, this game of almost-but-not-quite. She had thought she was through with bullying for the day, but the more he whined and begged for release, the more she wanted to drag it out.

He was a mess of sensation now, completely out of his mind with need; the last time she had stopped and made him beg, he hadn't been anywhere near coherent.

Well, she had had her fun, and plenty of it. Time to let the poor man finish and rest. Sitting up straight, she tightened her grip and pumped faster and harder than she had before. Her other hand reached to grab his collar and pull his face closer to hers.

His eyes snapped open, and she stared deeply into the brilliant green-blue of them. She knew her grin must look positively deranged, but didn't have enough self control to correct for it. "Remember, Raum: you're mine."

Wracked with a full-body shudder, he said something garbled back. It sounded enough like "yes" to satisfy her.

"You're mine."

This time, a delirious "mm-hmm."

It didn't take long to bring him to the end then. He came with a delicious moan, spilling over her chest and stomach. Good thing she'd gone fully nude. She didn't have a second shirt or coat at the ready, as everything was in the ship's storage.

Once done, he hung there, utterly spent. Lena unhooked him, though it took her a couple tries, and pulled him into her embrace. She kissed him on one of the hickies she had made earlier.

They sat there in silence for a while, as his breathing returned to normal and Lena covered his abused neck and right shoulder with kisses. She stroked his back as well, and ran her fingers through his hair.

Eventually, however, the seed that covered her started to get sticky and uncomfortable, and it was time to wrap things up. She moved to whisper in his ear. "You were very sweet today, you know? Don't think I'll never get tired of you."

He didn't say anything, only buried his face in her neck.

"Come, let's clean up and sleep. We've got a long way to go, and it's better than being awake and sick, right?"

He hummed agreement into her.

She patted him. "Alright. Come on."

* * *

_  
Why was everything so complicated around here? Complicated and stupid. Don't do this. Why? Because you don't do this. Do that. Why? Because you do that._

_Lena still liked Door. She liked Door a lot, but she was having a very hard time getting used to the rest of Illvey and all the stupid rules they made for no other reason than to make them. This was her second visit to the kingdom, if you counted Door's birthday party last year, and it seemed like the place didn't make much more sense without the parading circus animals._

_"I just think," she said, knowing she was being too loud for A Proper Young Lady (whatever_ that _was), "That if you want to see your mother, you should just be able to see your mother."_

_Door frowned at the floor. "It's not how it's done here."_

_"Why?" she asked, for the hundredth time._

_"Because it isn't."_

_She pouted, but quieted. No point in continuing to whine at her friend, who couldn't change anything anyway. "Sorry. It's just..."_

_She glanced at Lena, a small smile on her lips. "I understand."_

_Lena smiled back. So long as Door knew she was mad on her behalf, and not mad at her._

_Louis peeked at her from behind Door's voluminous skirt. "S'not so bad, Lena. Cheer up. She always wants to see us, it just doesn't always happen."_

_The three of them had been waiting in the hall leading to the Queen's apartments for some time now, with only Door's personal guard Rana, her maid, and a collection of miscellaneous servants for company. The twin doors leading inside hadn't opened once since they got here, even though a number of the servants milling about clearly needed to go in._

_Door sighed. "You know what... It doesn't matter. It's not important. I'll just... I'll talk to her later."_

_"No," she insisted. "It is important. You said you had something important to talk to her about, so it's important."_

_Door's frown deepened. "You don't have to wait with me. You can take Louis outside and enjoy the weather instead."_

_Louis smiled up at his sister. "I can go out. I can stay in. Either way, I'm happy."_

_"I'm staying," she insisted. "You don't want to tell her alone, so you won't. That's how it is."_

_Her friend nodded, gaze still fixed on the ground._

_They were all quiet for a while after that. Well, Lena, Door, and the adults were. Louis alternated between standing quietly beside one of them and marching up and down the hall, singing strange little songs that didn't make any sense. Lena liked Door's little brother well enough, but he made about as much sense as anything else in Illvey._

_Suddenly, Rana's attention switched from Louis' antics to something going on beyond the wall. Lena was about to ask what she heard when she started to hear it too. Distant yelling, becoming louder and clearer as the source approached the door._

_The Queen's voice, normally a bubbly and sweet trill, was shrill and piercing. " **RAUM!** _Tell him! _Tell him I won't hear of it. I don't care what kind of deal that fool made, that is—"_

_Another voice, completely unknown to Lena, answered her. Its volume was far_ _too low for her to make out what it was saying._

_"I don't care!" cried the Queen. "I don't care! I never agreed! They are not his _, they are_ ours _—"__

_Another answer, still too low to make out. They were both closer now, and it sounded a bit like one might be chasing the other._

_She looked to Door, whose expression very clearly said she wanted to be anywhere else, right now. "Maybe we_ should _come back later?"_

_Door swallowed, but didn't move. Louis, now hiding behind Rana's leg, stared at the door in wide-eyed horror._

_There was a great clatter, a shout, and a shatter as something that was probably very expensive pottery smashed against a wall somewhere beyond the entrance._

_Rana laid a hand on Door's shoulder, pulling lightly. "Princess."_

_The girl didn't move, her eyes fixed on the entry. "No. Rana, I want to hear this."_

_The guard reluctantly pulled her hand away._

_Lena judged the feuding parties to be in the same room as the doors leading in, now, and she strained to hear them._

_The quieter voice was just barely audible now. It was a man's voice, soft and low. "Majesty, I did. I told him—_ I begged him _—not to. I told him you wouldn't approve. I drew up_ charts _. Reports. Expenses. I did everything in my power to convince him. I swear to you, I did. He was determined. He was—"_

_"Stop making excuses!" the Queen screamed._

_"Not excuses, there is no excuse, I agree, it's—My Queen, I swear to you—"_

_"Go back! Go back and tell him—"_

_"He won't listen! Not to me. I tell you,_ I tried. _I came dangerously close to threatening the man."_

_"Then go on and_ actually threaten him _, you useless toad!"_

_They were very near the doors now, and Lena took a step back on instinct. The same instinct had Rana gather the children near her, pulling them all farther away._

_Just as the four of them cleared the danger zone, the doors banged open with enough force that Lena could feel the vibration through the floor and walls. Several servants nearer to them scrambled backward in shock, and one dropped a stack of linens she had been carrying._

_She had expected the Queen to come sailing out first, the back of her hand against her temple, dramatically making her displeasure known. She had seen that plenty times before. Instead, a tall man, pale of skin and dark of hair, marched out. He whirled back around, grabbing the handle of each door as he did so, then stuck his head back in to address what she guessed must be the Queen. "_ Eleanor. _I have done all that I can. I will let him know how you feel about the matter, again, even though it may very well_ cost me my life _. This I promise you. But that is the full extent of what I can do at this stage. I must now leave you. Please excuse me," he ended on a hiss, shutting both doors gently._

_For one golden second, there was silence on both sides of the door._

_Then, with volume Lena hadn't thought possible, the Queen_ shrieked.

_Lena's hair stood on end, and she couldn't stop herself from grabbing a remarkably stiff and pale Door by the arm. Both Louis and the maid hid behind Rana, who didn't move at all._

_The man, who Lena guessed was Raum (or 'RAUM!') looked like he hadn't taken this much better than anyone else in the hall. He stood before the doors, hands still resting on the handles, shoulders ruched up nearly to his ears. Lena could see he was breathing hard, like someone who had just outrun a wild animal._

_It felt like if any of them moved too quickly, all would be under attack. There was quiet in the hall for what a full minute._

_This not at all serene silence was broken by the man, who slowly turned his head to the collected servants standing on the other side of the hall. "I am sure," he began, in a tone much colder than that he had used with the Queen, "everyone here has something more important to do than gawk at me."_

_They dispersed without a word, the unlucky girl with the linens quickly gathering them as she went._

_Before Lena or anyone else could quietly slink away, he whipped his head around to stare at them. His brilliant blue-green eyes stood stark in his pale, angular face; even the waves of dark hair that had fallen in over them couldn't hide their color._

_Door turned to Lena, very slightly. "I think we should go," she whispered._

_"What," he hissed, "are these children doing out here?"_

_For an instant, Lena wasn't sure who he was talking to. Apparently she wasn't alone, because no one answered him._

_He let go of the doors, and she wondered if he had been holding them for support or to make sure the Queen stayed inside. Slowly, he came toward them, body language more than a little menacing. "Maid. Why have you brought your charges here?"_

_The maid, frightened out of her mind, nevertheless stepped out from behind Rana. "I-I-I'm sorry, we were just leaving." She pulled the girls away, and made as if to push them down the hall. Louis stayed attached to Rana's leg._

_"Wait," said Lena, digging her heels into the floor. "I have a question for him."_

_The look Door gave her was very familiar. It said_ what are you doing _, and Lena had seen it a lot this week._

_She tossed her friend a look._ I'm going to find out what that was all about, obviously. _She weaved past the maid and Rana, standing to face the man. "Why is the Queen so angry?"_

_There was a silence that gave her the impression that everyone in the room, not just Door, was thinking_ what are you doing _. Well, maybe not Rana. Didn't seem to have much to say to anybody, that one._

_The maid caught hold of her arm and tried to drag her away. "Apologies—This one is new, she isn't—she doesn't mean any disrespect—"_

_Lena shook her off and moved away, closer to Raum. "No, I want to know."_

_He studied her for a moment._

_"Why is she so angry?" she insisted. Door had been interested, so she was going to find out, even if she had to take the heat for it._

_He walked to her, stopping maybe an arm's length away. He was as tall as Rana, easy. No, taller, by a hand's length at least. He looked down his nose at her, eyes narrowed._

_"You want to know?" he asked, and nothing in voice said she should say she did._

_Good thing she didn't care. She puffed out her chest. He could loom all he liked, she wanted to know. "Yes."_

_He squatted down before her, until his eyes were level with hers. A very unfriendly smirk spread across his face._

_They really were vivid, weren't they? She'd never seen the like._

_"Because there are people in this palace," he began, voice quiet and silken as a snake's hiss, "who think the world revolves around them, and them alone."_

_Lena wasn't stupid, she understood that was pointed at her, too. The only reason she didn't challenge him on it is because she got distracted by his pretty face. That wasn't fair. He did that on purpose, so he wouldn't have to answer, didn't he? Pretty men were obnoxious like that._

_The hand she felt on her arm this time was plump and soft. Door had apparently had enough excitement for one day._

_"They were here to see the Queen," said Rana, behind her. "She is busy, so we will leave now."_

_He held onto Lena's gaze a few seconds more before standing up again. "She will likely be 'busy' for the rest of the day, and maybe the day after."_

_Rana bowed._

_He turned to the quivering maid. "Do not bring them here again unless you're sure she's available."_

_The maid nodded, eyes fixed on the ground._

_Satisfied with this, he turned to leave, but stopped partway; he looked at Lena again, and she didn't like the way his pupils contracted when he did._

_"Elgian princess," he drawled, "watch your tongue in the future. You never know whose attention you might attract."_

_Door yanked her away before she could gin up the courage to stick her tongue out at him._

_Probably for the best._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's okay, Raum, I don't like flying either.
> 
> Could have probably trimmed this down but fuck that. ding ding porntown
> 
> lol i screwed up the formatting on this like ten times.


	9. Arrival in Elgia

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No porn. Lots of ruminating. Rauminating. Sorry.
> 
> The man is having a hard time.

"Aw, Raum. Don't be angry."

He would be as angry as he wanted. She wouldn't take _that_ from him.

He was still trying to forget the bug-eyed, slack-jawed faces of the Vyssians earlier as they watched he and Lena disembark. The only saving grace of the whole affair was confirmation that the cabin walls had been thick enough to muffle their activities yesterday. They had to be. His thoroughly debauched state on exit had been a total surprise to the entire crew.

"I know it's not what you hoped, but..."

"I want some actual clothes," he growled, knowing he was being dangerously insubordinate.

She smiled sweetly up at him, laying her hands upon his bare stomach. "These _are_ 'actual clothes.' Some would say you were overdressed, you know."

They were _not_ and he was _not_. What Lena called 'clothes' he called barely anything at all. This was something a shapely dancing girl from a far off place should wear, not _him_.

A thick belt of soft leather looped around his hips, embossed with traditional Elgian knots and swirls. From it hung two shin-length panels of dark blue cloth, one at the front and one at the back, that allowed him something approaching modesty. Delicate silver chains crisscrossed over the gaps at his sides, keeping the fabric snug again his skin. A smattering of free-hanging chains, some with blue cabochon stones attached here and there, jingled as he moved.

It had been his only option this morning, as she had somehow managed to destroy his clothing as he slept. His soft boots had also mysteriously disappeared in the night, replaced with a matching pair of sandals that crisscrossed up his calves.

"It's still hot down here. You saw the ship's crew sweating in their uniforms, didn't you? You won't have that problem." She slid her hands down to his hips, playing with the chains there. Her grin was more than a little feral. "It looks lovely on you."

It did _not_. Of that, he was sure. Though he had long ago gotten used to being a tall and gawky parody of a man among the men of Illvey, he was feeling especially ugly now. _Which was fine, actually,_ but it didn't make any of this any easier.

Oblivious to his inner turmoil, she turned away and continued leading him down the street by his shackles. He kept his eyes on the ground, observing his surroundings with his peripheral vision. Lena's instructions had been very clear on that point. _Don't look any woman in the eye. Don't say anything without permission._

Elgia was as he had expected it would be. He had known enough about the region's geography and climate to make an educated guess at how it must look. The inland areas, as far as he could see, were dominated by rolling hills and vast swathes of forest. Here, at the coast, the shining white sand stretched far into the distance.

As for the city of Lun, his assumptions had been mostly off the mark. He had expected some kind of ramshackle thieves village playing at being a port town; what he found was an orderly and well-maintained coastal city that easily outshone any of Illvey's own. The roads were paved with smooth white stone and lacking the filth that tended to collect along the sides of their Illvan counterparts. The same material had been used for the buildings, though most were covered with colorful mosaics depicting natural scenes, great heroines, and more traditional designs. Colorful banners flew overhead, some hanging from free-standing posts along the road, others strung from building to building. He could hear the noise of the harbor on the wind, though he couldn't see it from here.

Yet, his assumptions had only been _mostly_ off. For while he had underestimated the city itself, his guesses about the population had landed much closer to the truth. The drunken guard he had dismissed as a pervert so long ago had been correct: here, every craftsman, merchant, soldier, grocer, or other such person you might pass on the street, was a woman. Furthermore, while Donte's contact had been rather harsh in their description, they were not wholly wrong. Boorish and full of braggadocio, it seemed every interaction between the women of Elgia became an opportunity to grandstand. He and Lena had passed no less than three brewing fistfights since entering the city limits.

Men were not completely absent, however. Here and there he sighted one, and every time he did, he rather wished he hadn't. Lena had told him he was neither pet nor slave, but it appeared such designations were not out of the question, with the latter being far more common. Most were dressed similarly to him, allowed only some style of loincloth and sandals in addition to the required collar and shackles. Lena's comment about him looking overdressed had not been a joke: his garment gave much better cover than many of theirs, which often ended just a hair before total pointlessness.

Shockingly, it looked as if the majority were from outside the isles, as none resembled the women in any meaningful way. He wondered what percentage of Elgian births came out male.

It was not hard to guess the primary function of his sex out here, not with the way they were constantly being leered at and harassed. He didn't know any Elgian, but he did know what a catcall sounded like, and such bellows were alarming in their frequency. Opportunistic groping was about as common, and it seemed that none of the men subjected to it felt like they could object too strongly. As awful as he knew men could be on the mainland, it seemed the women of Elgia were determined to be a hundred times as perverse.

Fortunately, he was spared most of this. The too-keen stares he received tended to slide away once his admirer noticed the marks about his neck. _They have to know you're taken,_ Lena had told him. _I'm not doing it to hurt you._ Whatever else had transpired yesterday, Lena had been honest with him. He found himself appreciating her foresight.

Her presence alone did much to fend off any would-be molesters. He only suffered one unwanted caress, from an intoxicated soldier who very nearly met her end by Lena's hand immediately afterwards. Once she had been chased off, he noticed they were both given a much wider berth as they made their way towards the complex that housed the Queen and her offspring.

The city itself had been built in the shape of a crescent moon, its curve bowed out towards the sea. The Queen's Houses were cradled within, hidden in and among the beginnings of a vast forest that stretched out from the mouth of the crescent to further inland.

As they approached the complex, the white stone of the city's roads became dark stone, and the buildings that had lined the streets at either side gave way to palisades of rich red wood. Banners hung at intervals upon these walls, with the Queen's particular design, a white dragon twisted against a green field, becoming more frequent as they closed in on the central building. If he had to guess, the sudden change in architectural style was probably due to the newness of the buildings. Lun had likely been around for hundreds of years; Oraela had only declared herself Queen within the last few decades. Chances were this complex wasn't much older than her claim to the long-dormant throne.

He felt Lena pull on his collar. Startled from his woolgathering, he looked down to find her insistently motioning for him to lean down. "D'you see that house, up there, with the orange banners? That's mine. S'not real grand, maybe a bit small, but it's comfortable. I had our things taken up there earlier."

He followed the line from the end of her finger into the distance and found a well-hidden little house perched atop a small hill. Part of the hill had been shaved away during the road's original construction to accommodate its impressive width. The banners blowing in the wind over it were indeed orange, with some design in gold and white he couldn't quite make out.

The atmosphere of the complex was much different than that of the city. Most of the women he saw scurrying about were clearly staff of some kind, and none had any time to waste on vulgar displays of dominance or perversion. The others, mostly older women dressed in finely detailed robes, were probably government officials or similar. There were no men. He supposed they had little use here.

Lena led him into a large, excessively ornamented building that he guessed must be the Queen's own home. It had been built as a series of progressively smaller rings stacked within each other; as they passed from ring to ring, he noticed the furnishings and decor became finer and more ornate, and the guards more heavily armed.

Soon they reached the center, a large circular room with a high roof. It was busy here, and he was forcefully reminded of those odd times in the past when Leopold had made attempts at actual governance.

Along the outside of the room clustered what he assumed to be officials of some importance, some seated upon cushions, others standing, all shouting or growling at each other in Elgian. Secretaries, or whatever the Elgian equivalent was, darted from group to group, bringing news that either calmed or aggravated whatever strife was currently at work at their destination. Sometimes, they made for the center of the room, where sat what was simultaneously the most ferocious yet most regal woman he had ever seen.

Half-reclining upon something like a legless chaise, she observed the goings on with the lazy attention of a sated predator. Her eyes betrayed no urgency or real interest in the proceedings. She shared Lena's auburn hair and bronzed skin, though her eyes were a light brown rather than gold. It could only be Oraela.

Her expression changed the instant her eyes alighted on Lena. The brooding frown became a radiant smile, and she exclaimed something in Elgian as she rose from her seat.

Lena bounced on her heels in excitement, as if it took everything within not to run over to her mother. This uncharacteristic show of restraint was rendered pointless as Oraela quickly closed the distance between them. They hugged one another as if they hadn't met in decades, Oraela planting an excessive amount of kisses atop Lena's head. Their conversation was inscrutable to him, but their body language was crystal clear: amazement and delight. Oraela obviously hadn't expected to see her offspring back so early.

The continued chatter among the gathered officials had became hushed during this. A few briefly glanced Lena's way before being drawn back into whatever fray they were originally a part of.

He was suddenly aware of both women's attention focused on him, and the twin pressure of their gazes nearly pushed him to take a step back. He kept his own fixed to the floor.

He felt a hand, larger than Lena's and more heavily callused, take him by the chin. He was forced to face the Queen, though he was sure to keep his eyes averted. Lena bounced excitedly in the corner of his vision.

"So you are the one who Lena chose so long ago," said Oraela, in heavily accented yet impeccable language. She tilted his head this way and that, examining him. "Raum of Illvey."

He wasn't to speak, but he doubted they wanted no acknowledgement from him at all. He gave her a cautious nod.

"Look at me."

He did so, and was immediately pinned in place by her stare. He had been wrong: her eyes were in fact a dark hazel. They shined like Lena's in the light. Another lioness.

She grinned at him, and that looked very Lena-ish, too. He felt her rub her thumb along his jawline. "Yes, very pretty eyes."

Heat washed over his face. Surely it now matched the marks all over his neck and shoulders.

Lena pressed against his side, her arm going around his waist. "He's pretty all over, but he's clever, too. Not just for petting. I think he could be useful."

Is that what she had been doing to him? _Petting?_

"Yes," Oraela said thoughtfully, "he is 'The Viper.' I was warned not to speak to him, and then I did not see him at all." She let go of his chin. "You may speak, Viper. Tell me why that was."

He was unsure if looking to Lena for instruction would be taken as disrespect. Better to err on the side of caution, he decided. "Queen Oraela... I meant no offense to you, or any of our honored guests. Quite the contrary. I knew I was unwanted during the celebrations. I removed myself from sight accordingly."

She raised her eyebrows. "Is that so? A shame. I would have had some context for Lena's obsession."

"It wasn't an _obsession_ ," Lena hissed.

Oraela ignored this, either as a Queen who was above such or a mother who believed otherwise. "Now I understand why you wouldn't let me or your sisters give you a man. He is very different from what I would have found you."

He didn't doubt it, but judged it unwise to denigrate Lena's awful taste in front of the Queen.

Lena's hand slid down his chest. He could hear the pout in her voice. "Well, I like him."

The Queen laughed, and the look she gave him was extremely familiar. "I said I understood."

A second wave of heat washed over him. Apparently the royal family here was all mad in the exact same way. Some things truly didn't change, no matter what court he found his way into.

Lena let him go then, furtively glancing about the room. She lowered her voice. "Mother... I need to talk to you. Privately."

He couldn't help but note Oraela's lack of surprise. Her continued use of a foreign tongue was also interesting. "Then we shall talk. But first, I want you to go home and rest."

"But—"

"No, I will not hear any more. You have had a long journey, and I am very busy here."

"It wasn't that long, and we got plenty of rest."

Oraela looked at him again. He was confused as to why until he realized she was looking directly at his neck.

Lena caught on about as quickly as he did. "That wasn't the _whole time_!"

He was going to die of embarrassment. Right here, right now. It would be a mercy.

Oraela's voice became firmer. "We will speak very soon, when I can promise such privacy. Not today. Once the excitement dies down."

He could see the stubborn glint in Lena's eye, similar to the one in her mother's. He decided it was time to get ahead of things. "Lena... You have time."

Both women looked to him then, frowning equally as hard. Lena spoke first. "That's true, but..."

Oraela stared at him for a moment, then glanced at Lena. "You let him call you by your name?"

Ah. He hadn't thought about that. Forms of address had not been part of the lecture earlier, as he had been instructed not to talk at all. He mentally scrambled for a way to cover his mistake.

Lena crossed her arms. The stubborn glint was back in her eyes. "You let my sire call you yours."

Oraela's head whirled on her. There was a dangerous silence.

"You _did_ ," she insisted. "I remember."

The silence dragged on for a hideously long time. Eventually, Oraela relented, her voice soft and quiet. "I did."

Perhaps sensing she had taken a step too far, Lena's own manner softened and she let her arms drop to her side. "I'll... I'll get some rest, and... Maybe tomorrow, we can talk."

Oraela's smile was warm. "My little flame." She turned to look at him again, her expression far less warm. "Count yourself lucky, Viper. There are many here who would not put up with such things."

Point taken. He bowed, eyes back on the floor.

That seemed to satisfy Oraela, at least. She addressed Lena again, but the rest of their conversation was in Elgian and thus lost to him.

He let his attention wander back to the murmuring crowd in the room. Here and there, he saw them peer over one another at the Queen and Lena. He wondered if any of them knew the language of mainland.

He noticed Oraela walk away, and felt Lena's hand come to rest on his lower back. "Come on. Let's go home."

* * *

Lena's home was no smaller than Donte's apartment had been, only arranged differently. Constructed of the same reddish wood as the main house, it was rectangular in shape rather than circular. One end overlooked the wide road from the city into the complex; the other stretched beneath the trees of the forest. As it turned out, the orange banners flapping overhead were emblazoned with a stylized lion, and he couldn't help but laugh at how apt it was.

They were now in what he guessed to be some kind of lounge or drawing room. The furnishings were similar to those of the main house in quality and make. Two banners, one of Oraela's and one of Lena's, were hung on the wall above another legless chaise, opposite three large open windows. A loose collection of low chairs and cushions were arranged around a low table of dark wood in the center of the room.

A harried young girl worked to roll the heavy cloth curtains up above the frames of the windows, tying them there with leather strips attached to the wall. Sheets of fine netting were pulled down to replace them. Once finished, she bid Lena goodbye in a haughty tone. When she left, Lena turned to him with her typical scrunched-nose look of irritation. "One of the girls from the main house. I gave all mine leave for a few months, since I didn't think I would be back so soon. These get mad if any of us call them away from their usual work." She turned towards the windows. "Nice view though, isn't it? S'why I picked this one, even if it's smaller than the others."

It was. The house's high perch above the ground level trees gave them a stunning view of the city below and sea beyond.

Satisfied, she sat at one side of the table, opposite to where she had guided him earlier. "So, er. What do you think?"

His first thought was that he was very glad it was only he and she in here, as he had just gone through the absolute most humiliating ordeal of his entire life outside. He tried to think of a diplomatic way to express this.

She bit her lip. "I mean, I know it's probably all very strange, and I guess it was a bit extreme out there... Don't give me that look!"

Ah. Had he given her a look? He schooled his face into a more neutral expression.

She blew out a great sigh, her gaze dropping to the table's surface. "I know it's a bit much, but... I swear you're safe here. You saw what I did to that hag that got too cozy with you."

He did. It was quite graphic.

She stared at her reflection in the polished table, lips pursed, eyebrows slanted downward. "I wish you'd say something."

He arched an eyebrow. "Is that an order?"

The look she gave him was best described as peevish.

He raised his hands in surrender as well as the closely-linked shackles would allow. "It was only a joke."

Her gaze returned to the table, all anger gone. "Like I said, I know it's a bit much if you're not used to it."

She was feeling guilty again. He could leverage that, but... Well. She had defended him, after all. Quite fiercely. "It is very different from what I am used to."

She was silent.

No, this wouldn't do. He couldn't have her sulking like this. Her guilt was too contagious. He would change the subject. "Lena... What did Oraela mean by 'the excitement'?"

She brightened at that. "Oh, um, well. S'tradition. When a bunch of us come back from a big fight, we have a big celebration. Lasts three days and three nights. That'll be had when everyone else gets back."

If Oraela was as aware of the threat as he thought she might be, it seemed strange for her to put speaking to Lena off for so long. "You won't be able to speak to her privately for weeks?"

"No! No, she's so happy I came back, and it was such a big win, she wants to have a little celebration tomorrow. Nothing big, just, a bit of a party. She'll probably talk to me tomorrow morning or the next day."

Based on the prideful nature of her people, he doubted 'Tanel', 'Ulla', 'Ame', and whoever else would approve. "The others will not take offense?"

She pursed her lips again. "Maybe. Doesn't matter. They can't go against her. I can't either."

What an interesting statement. "You do not want a celebration in your honor?"

"It's not that I don't want to, just..." she pouted. "I don't know. She's treating me like a baby again."

He recalled the warmth of Oraela's regard for her. "She does seem to dote on you."

"Yeah, well... I'm her miracle baby," she ducked her head, apparently embarrassed. "She didn't have any for a long time, and then I came by accident. My sire was her favorite, too."

He wondered if he should dig any deeper. He decided against it. The weight behind that 'was' made him loath to prod at it. Time for another change of subject. "I offended her when I spoke out of turn."

She grimaced. "Yeah... I forgot. You're not supposed to talk unless told to, for one. You can beg if you really need to, though."

"Beg? Without talking?"

"Usually... Kneel next to me and put your hand to your lips. If I tell you so, you can talk. If not, you can't."

He considered this. No more humiliating than anything else he had been subjected to recently.

"Well, that's just how it is in public. I won't get mad at you if you talk to me when we're alone," she said quickly. "I'm not that strict."

"So I can talk to you privately, no begging required."

"Yes! I don't need you to grovel so much. Some like that, but... Always seemed a bit mean to me."

He hummed agreement. Even if she could be... Forceful, at times, he was very glad she was so inclined to be permissive. Judging from the miserable look of some of the men out on the street today, not every woman here was.

"And I like your voice," she finished, oddly bashful.

An exceedingly rare mood for Lena, who he had only ever known to be brash and proud. He suddenly remembered another point of interest in their earlier conversation. "Would you say you are obsessed with it?"

The look of horror that crossed her face then had him bracing for retaliation, but she only grew red and puffed out her cheeks. "It wasn't an _obsession!_ That old woman needs to shut up!"

Again, the raised his hands in surrender. "I was only curious."

"There's nothing to be curious about," she hissed, her eyes again fixed on the table. Privately, he was delighted to see _her_ turn red for once. They were nowhere near even, but he would take what he could get.

They sat in silence for a moment. As much as he wanted to drag some more answers out of her on that point, it seemed she needed a moment to collect herself. It didn't matter. He had nothing but time, at this point.

She glanced outside. "The sun is getting low. Think I better go to the stalls before they close up." She got up from the table and walked to the entryway, where she had discarded her boots earlier.

"The stalls?"

She was pulling them on again. "Mm hmm. Market. Got to go get a few things." She tossed a quick glance at him before resuming, face red again. "I'll go mad if I don't."

He really didn't want to go back out there.

She must have sensed his trepidation, because she was quick to reassure him. "Don't worry, you don't have to come with me. The house is safe, got all kinds of eyes on it. The place is kind of bare right now, didn't think I'd be back for a while, so it might be a little boring... Oh, wait, I had our stuff taken up earlier, right? It's probably in here somewhere. Go on and have a look around while I'm gone."

'All kinds of eyes on it' meant leaving undetected was more than a little unlikely. Her relative unconcern with letting him poke around also suggested a lack of anything that might aid in escape. He stifled a sigh at his own helplessness.

"I'll see about getting some food delivered to us later, too. They can be as snotty as they want, they still have to feed me."

His stomach grumbled. "That would be appreciated."

"I'm not doing a very good job of taking care of you, am I?" She came around the table and kissed his temple. "Well... I'm off, then. Might be a while. Just stay here and relax."

He watched her leave, but did not get up right away. No, he was alone, he was safe, and it was quiet. It was time to think. About everything.

He would begin with the safest subject: Oraela's behavior.

However long ago, she gave her daughter, and four of her not-exactly-most trusted generals, leave to assist Dorothea in bringing Illvey to its knees. She was able to dote on her 'miracle' and keep the rest busy at the same time. That much made sense.

What _didn't_ make sense was sending letters recalling Lena, two would-be traitors, and a sizable proportion of soldiers before the coup actually kicked off. If his calculations were correct, she would have done so little more than a week before the projected date.

It was such a bizarre thing to do. Had she been so sure of a speedy victory and the survival of both Lena and the traitors? The brevity of Lena's letter made its interception less of a risk, but what of the other letters, which made explicit demands for entire companies of soldiers to be withdrawn? What would they in Illvey have made of such a message, had they had intercepted it?

He had suspected the letters might be fake, but Lena had insisted hers was genuine. Oraela's behavior today had confirmed that.

Did she have a faster way of sending messages up north than by ship and horseback? He doubted it. Airships were simply not found on this side of the ocean. The Vyssian ones so recently gifted to Dorothea might be the only ones ever seen in Illvey. The reaction of the locals upon their arrival had made it clear how very unusual they were down here in Elgia.

Talk of 'meatheads' aside, he had seen the cunning and intelligence in Oraela's eyes. She did not do things just to do them. There was some logic at work here, he just didn't have all the facts yet. He would revisit this problem at a later time.

The next item on the agenda... He had expected a certain level of culture shock once he arrived in Elgia, but not to _this_ degree.

He had thought Elgia would merely be the reverse of Illvey, with women as principal citizens and men confined to more domestic roles. He had put too much stock in the drunken guard's description of the thing and not enough in what had been laid plain before him since capture.

The collar, the shackles... Lena's admission on that first day that there was truth in the rumor Elgians 'steal away men from the outside and keep them as toys.' She had told him not to fret whether he was 'pet' or 'slave,' but hadn't denied his second-class status. She had even told him men didn't have the right to wear clothes out here. Dorothea had even called her his 'owner.'

The men he had seen on public streets today... Life here as a male could be a miserable thing. Those men dressed in fine silks and jewels, sitting by the feet of their owners, seemed to be mostly alright. Some even looked happy. The others... He had seen evidence of abuse. Bruises, scars, black eyes. Lena had said she 'wasn't so strict,' but it seemed she was in the minority here.

A chill ran through him as he remembered the touch of the drunken soldier from earlier. She hadn't gotten particularly handsy with him, really; it was only a light caress along his buttocks. He had seen much worse today, perpetuated by women who weren't even inebriated. Still, his skin crawled at the memory. Somehow it was worse than the punishment Lena had subjected him to several days ago. That had _hurt_ , yes, but...

But, what? He frowned inwardly. It was all humiliation and degradation. There was no difference there, surely. And on the topic of unwanted touching and general perversion, what did you call everything Lena had subjected him to in the last few days? She had even gone so far as to restrain him the first time, and then there was all the ordering about, and... Biting, and marking, and pulling his hair, and... Touching, kissing... _Mine_...

The harder his sense of modesty tried to prevent this particular line of thought from speeding downhill, the more interested his traitorous lower half got in further reminiscence. He forced his mind to blank, chasing the too-vivid memories back into his subconscious. Now was very much not the time.

_Anyway._ Lena had done so much worse to him. Yet, he did not fear her. Her touch did not inspire disgust or hatred. Was he simply used to her now? Had he been conditioned to accept her? If that was required, then why had he submitted to her so readily the first time?

No good, he was only coming up with more questions, no answers. He would leave that subject for later.

His discomfort with the treatment of his sex made his desire to escape so much stronger than it had been back in Illvey. Yet, escape was impossible here in the isles, where he was closer to cattle than citizen. He would have to hope Lena took him with her the next time she wanted to see Dorothea.

If that day never came... Could he stand it? Could he live like this?

Lena had been very kind to him. 'Permissive' was underselling it. He knew he had been pushing it lately with his backtalk and grumbling. If she truly wanted to harm him, she would have done so already. Even those times when she did take total control of him, as she had the first day and yesterday...

Would it be so hard? To stay here, as Lena's pet? As far as he could tell, his only duties now were to be available for 'petting' and... Not much else, really. If Lena gave him his things back, and let him do as he pleased whenever she had no need of him... Wouldn't that be fine?

He sat there a while longer, shocked at his own acceptance of the status quo. It shouldn't be fine. _It shouldn't._

It might be.

* * *

The sun had nearly finished sinking into the sea by the time Lena made it home. Well, that was the risk, at market. The faster you wanted to get the haggling over with, the more difficult they made it for you.

She found Raum reclining among the cushions, watching the sunset through the windows. One of his books lay open over his stomach, his hand resting over it.

Her lovely Raum, half naked and covered in her marks, lounging among her things, looking as content and relaxed as any spoiled housecat.

It was all she had ever wanted.

As much as she would've liked to stand there and stare at her newfound bliss for an hour or two, she had other things she needed to get done. "Raum?"

Startled, he quickly looked her way. A lock of black hair fell into his eyes, and he yawned softly as he smoothed it back. "Ah. You're back. Did you get what you wanted?"

_Oh, yes._

He frowned. "Lena?"

She snapped to. From the look on his face, she had been staring again. "Er, yeah. Yeah, I did." She rummaged in her bag as she made her way towards him.

Sensing this had something to do with him, he picked the book up and placed it on the table, turning himself to face her. "I'm almost afraid to ask."

"It's nothing bad," she insisted. She made her way around the table and sank down into the cushions beside him. "I said I was going to find a better collar for you, so I went and got one."

She had just managed to catch the merchant she wanted to see before the woman closed up shop for the day. It was very easy to find a collar out there, but finding someone who knew how to put seals on one was much harder. Magic users were rare captures, after all. Harder to grab men who could fry you to a crisp with a thought.

She pulled it out of the bag. The instant she had seen it, she knew she wanted it for Raum. Dark leather, with silver accents and blue and green stones. The vendor had noticed how keen she was to have it and driven a hard bargain, but it didn't matter. It was perfect for him.

He said nothing, only stared at it.

She halted, rubbing her thumbs across the soft leather of the inside. How was she going to do this? She still didn't quite get how these things worked, and she was terrified Raum might be the one to pay the price for her stupidity.

"You are thinking about how you're going to get that on me, aren't you?"

She jumped. Always count on Raum to see what you didn't want him to. "Well... Yes. Don't think you'll fall for the kissing trick again."

He smirked at her.

She peered at the ring-shaped one he currently wore. The girl up in Illvey had said the binding on it was proper strong. The one she held in her hands now was strong, too. He had said the one they slapped on him in the dungeons felt like it was strangling him. Would these two combined actually hurt him? Maybe even more than the first?

"If you take this one off, I might actually kill you this time," he drawled. "If you try to put them both on me, you may very well kill me. That is your dilemma, is it not?"

She looked into his eyes. He was being cheeky, not hateful, but she couldn't discount that as a threat. "I can guess which way you want me to try."

He inclined his head deferentially, but his smirk didn't fade.

They sat in silence for a bit. Maybe she _should_ have tried the kissing thing again.

"Let me ask you this. Suppose you take this one off, and I murder you. What do you think happens next?"

She looked into his eyes again. She still couldn't read any hatred there, but a chill passed through her all the same. "What do you mean?"

He let his gaze slide over to the windows again. "I mean, what do you think happens to me? A man alone, in the middle of the largest city in Elgia, surrounded by armed soldiers loyal to your family, and an entire island full of women who think me just looking them in the eye is beyond the pale? Do you think I survive? How long do you think I last?"

She froze. That was... A really bleak picture he just sketched, there. Yeah, it wouldn't go too well for him. Archers alone would be enough. He couldn't target them all at once.

He sighed, and his smile became rueful. "You have nothing to fear from me, Lena. I have no way to escape this place. Even if I did, do you think your mother would allow me to get away clean? I would live the rest of my life in utter terror of recapture. Death would be better than whatever she would subject me to."

That... Was true. Mother really would go crazy. She would never forgive him, or anyone connected to him. She might even go to war with Door, since that was who gave him to Lena.

His eyes flicked back to hers. The smirk was gone. "I cannot force you to do it my way. I can only tell you it is not as dangerous as you think it is."

Her rational mind screamed at her not to do it. _You chose a very dangerous prize,_ warned Door, way back when. She had meant it in a mind games way, not an actual-death-and-destruction way, but she was right. He could be setting her up for a fall.

Her gut said otherwise, however, and she always trusted her gut. It noticed things her mind never did. She reached over and applied the one-time breaking charm the collar's maker had given her, pulling it apart with a quiet click.

They both froze, equally shocked by her action. Once she recovered, she pulled it fully apart and off him, letting the two halves fall to the floor with a dull double clunk.

They stared at each other for a moment.

He raised an eyebrow. His eyes flicked from the collar splayed across her lap to her eyes. "Well?"

She picked it up and looped it around the back of his neck, secretly fearing the loud pop and bright light that would spell her end. It never came; she was able to put the clasp together and click it shut without interruption. The locking charm on the clasp activated with a brief fizzle. Gently, she went about adjusting it: making sure it wasn't too tight, smoothing it out, pulling any errant stones out from underneath and letting them dangle from the bottom.

She leaned back to examine her work. She had been right. The dark brown leather was just bright enough to stand out from his dark hair. The blue and green stones both complemented and accented his vivid eyes. Even the silver settings of the stones and the clasp were perfect for him.

He had really let her do it. Didn't even snarl at her.

The smirk was back. "Now, was that so bad?"

She pulled out the matching articles for his wrists. They looked more like bracelets than what he wore now, but the silver ring on one side made their function plain. "There's also these."

He let out a small sigh, but offered his wrists to her without trouble. She quickly broke the seals on the old shackles and replaced them with the prettier ones from the market. They looked lovely too, their sleeker profile accenting his long, lean arms. "There. Looks better. Probably more comfortable, too."

He examined them, face unreadable.

"One last thing," she said, quickly getting up and trotting into the back. Some rummaging around under the bed produced the box she was after, and she returned to him with it as quickly as she could. "Some jewelry I got for you."

He said nothing, only raised his eyebrows in question.

She slid a silver ring decorated with a deep green stone onto his finger. "Well, I was... Kind of collecting them. Over the years."

"Were you."

"Just thought maybe, if I did catch you, well... I would like to see you in them." She slid another ring, a simple silver band, onto another.

He docilely let her ornament him with some things from the collection of rings, bracelets, and necklaces inside. Once satisfied with her arrangement, she closed the box and looked him over. Now he looked like he belonged to an Elgian princess.

Sensing she was through with him, he wordlessly looked over the rings she had slipped on earlier.

She played with the clasp on the box, suddenly feeling anxious. "Wasn't sure if you could wear earrings or not. Never bothered to get any." Now that she looked at him, she probably should have made some investment in hair jewelry. Well, she could find some later.

He laid his hands in his lap, still silent. He stared at the floor, a hint of a frown on his lips.

Was he... Sad? Did the reality of it all only hit him just now? She couldn't tell. He had sounded bitter earlier, perhaps this was the comedown? Guilt assailed her. Here she had been so selfish, only thinking of what she wanted, how happy she was, and... She had never wanted to hurt him so. She had known how independent he was, how much he valued the time the King and Queen didn't take from him.

She took his hands in hers and rubbed her thumbs over his long fingers. They were colder than the rings she had just slipped on. "Raum... I know... You're probably not happy."

He was silent, and did not raise his eyes to hers.

She brought one to her cheek. "I just... Really wanted to have you, and protect you. When we were storming the palace and all that was going on, all I could think was, eventually, you'd be mine."

When he didn't answer, she laid a kiss on the back of it. "It might seem crazy to you, but that was the most important thing, right after making it work for Door. Help Door, get you. That's the whole reason I got involved. Wanted to have you all to myself, and love on you, and never let anyone hurt you again."

He mumbled something.

"What?"

"For how long... Were you collecting these?"

"Er," she began, unsteady. She had been expecting... Not that. "Well... A long time. Probably, um. For a while. A good long while." She felt her face heat.

"How long is 'a good long while'?"

She had never heard a question she wanted to answer less. "Dunno. Didn't count."

He crossed his arms. For warmth or in defense, she wasn't sure.

"Um. Raum—"

"It is fine, Lena. I am... I am fine, for now." he looked into her eyes. "Give me some time."

She examined him closely. His voice, his face, his eyes. He didn't sound overly upset, or angry. She saw nothing that would out him as a liar. She nodded. "Alright."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> it 100% was an obsession lol liar
> 
> Oh man this got stupid long. Should have split the chapters differently.


	10. Realization, Socialization, Rumination

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Had to reshuffle my outline and split this chapter into two. Sorry for the plot-heavy chapter, next one's different. It's close to finished, too.
> 
> Raum continues to have a hard time, for various reasons.

He couldn't sleep.

He had expected her to take more liberties with him after that. The way her eyes had raked over him after replacing his collar... Her lingering grip on each wrist as she replaced the shackles... Even the tenderness with which she had slid the rings onto his fingers. All of it was familiar. All led to _Mine._

She didn't. Instead, her first action had been to start unpacking her things, and her first order to him had been to do the same with his own. Sometime in the middle of this work, dinner arrived from the main house, and Lena had badgered him to eat his fill before she would even consider feeding herself.

A room that didn't appear to be used for much before his arrival was then designated as his. The books she had brought to him before, along with several more stacks liberated from his chambers sometime before they left Illvey, lived there now. She had assured him she would see about finding some proper shelving later, and maybe some other furnishings. She wanted him to be comfortable here, she said.

He couldn't sleep.

By the time they were finished, Lena had all but dragged him to bed. Saying it was too hot for clothes, she had promptly and without any shame whatsoever stripped down to nothing. He had been sure she would have her way with him then.

She didn't. She didn't even get angry with him when he declined to strip as well, only rolled her eyes and pulled him closer. His initial fluster at her naked form being pressed against him had prompted only giggles.

She had fallen asleep hours ago, nestled against his side, her head resting against his shoulder. Her arm was half thrown over him, hand laying over his heart.

He couldn't sleep.

She was very warm. He had caught himself snuggling closer to her as the night cooled down, unable to generate such heat for himself. His sense of propriety screamed at him for being a disgusting lecher, getting so cozy with a sleeping young woman. He tried to ignore it.

He couldn't sleep. Because it had begun to dawn on him that Lena might actually like him.

His initial assumption had been that her conquest of him was revenge for the injury he gave her that fateful night. It wasn't enough to pay him back in kind; she wanted to torture him, humiliate him, destroy him. He had begged her to kill him and spare him the rest, only to have her... Kiss him. Comfort him. Have her way with him, yes, but...

Later he had thought she might be playing a long game. Her kindness was suspicious, given how closely it was tied to his ongoing embarrassment. She was definitely trying to humiliate him. Why, he didn't know. She insisted it wasn't about her injury, but no matter how he racked his brain, he couldn't remember any direct harm he had ever visited on her.

Then came that night she punished him, not out of anger, but out of fear... For him. His well-being. Her guilt afterward made it clear that she wasn't really in it to abuse him. As a result, he had slowly came around to the idea that she didn't hate him, at least.

Now he knew there was an 'obsession' that had lasted a 'good long while.' How long? Long enough to result in a sizeable collection of jewelry meant solely for him. Long enough to make even bold and headstrong Lena too embarrassed to tell him how long.

If he thought about the last week with this in mind, her behavior became far less confounding. Her kindness wasn't a ruse... Her touch wasn't an instrument of humiliation. Even when she had so cruelly teased him in the airship cabin, he had seen nothing cold or hateful in her eyes. Only warmth. 'You're mine' meant more than he had initially assumed. She wasn't just reminding him of her dominion over him. She was delighting in having him to herself.

She shifted in her sleep, nuzzling against his neck. Her short, choppy hair tickled his jaw; her lips grazed his throat. She made a contented noise, like a purr.

As foolish as she was to consider him worth taking, he had been far more foolish in not seeing the bloody obvious as it paraded itself around right in front of him. He had overthought things. It really was that simple.

But.

He didn't understand it. Even if she was deranged enough to find him attractive (which was still absolutely bizarre, in his opinion), why would she want _him_ around, of all creatures on this wretched earth? He was The Viper. The evil advisor. A Thing That Lurks.

"It's such a waste," he whispered into her hair. "you could have had anyone in the court. Anyone you wanted. They were all enchanted with you, strange as you were. If you had but extended your hand, they would have lined up to eat from it. Why did you bother with me?"

She gave no response, fully lost to dreams.

A terrible waste.

* * *

As much as Lena would have preferred to spend a lazy morning snuggling with Raum, she couldn't. There too much going on, too fast, just out of sight; she had to know where she stood before she took any steps herself. That's why, not long after dawn, she left him to sleep in and went back to the main house to find her mother.

It took some footwork. Oraela did not have a set schedule like the King of Illvey used to. He had one because he wanted everyone to know where he was at all times, in case they should want to drop by and shower him with attention; Oraela didn't for the exact opposite reason. Given that she was still alive and he wasn't, Lena had to admit it was a better plan.

Finally, after a lot of running around in (very literal) circles, Lena sighted Oraela through an archway. She almost called out, but caught herself as soon as she realized the woman was talking to someone unseen. Annoyed to learn she would have to— _ugh_ —wait her turn, she settled for quietly but obviously approaching the entryway.

Most of the rooms in the main house were just that: rooms. However, some rings had sections that were more like walled gardens. All lacked roofs, though some had colorful canopies stretched overhead; each contained a profusion of plants and a seat or two for those looking for a quiet place to rest. The one Lena found her mother in was one of these, located in the ring just outside the center chamber, its opening facing the ring on the outside.

As she drew closer, the visitor's voice became clearer. It was a beautiful voice, high and soft. It sounded like Queen Eleanor's had way back when, all tinkling silver bells and good cheer.

Her footsteps were just loud enough to catch Oraela's attention. Her mother smiled broadly and motioned her to come closer. "Little flame! Come in, come in. Meet my good friend!" She turned to the hidden woman. "Betula, my youngest daughter."

She did her best to hide her irritation. She hadn't expected to entertain anyone today. She didn't want to prolong a conversation that might overtake any possibility of their own, either. As she crossed the threshold, she turned to have a look at her mother's visitor.

There sat the most strangely beautiful woman Lena had ever seen. She was very tall; easily taller than Rana, maybe even Raum. Her skin and hair were the same shade, pale as moonlight, silvery too, and she seemed to softly glow in the early light of day. Her garments, long, gauzy, and fashioned in a style completely foreign to Lena, gleamed in shades of pale blue and lavender. The only part of her that didn't shine with ethereal light were her eyes: pitch black and deep as night, with no visible whites or irises.

Those endless eyes were fixed on Lena now. Unnerving as they were, the woman's gentle smile made them crinkle with sincere good feeling. "Good day. I have heard so very much about you, Lena."

Being addressed by name snapped her back to reality, but only just. She tried to find some mental footing. "I, er. All good things, I hope."

Betula's smile brightened. "Yes. You are much beloved."

Oraela laughed. "Of course she is. Lena, sit with us."

The irritation from before flashed through her, but she managed to push it down. It wasn't the woman's fault Lena was in a hurry. "I don't want to interrupt. Just thought we could talk today."

Her mother all but yanked her into the seat immediately next to her, tutting loudly. Lena landed with a loud 'oomph'. "Don't be rude. Guests come first."

Betula regarded them with gentle interest, as if they were a pair of kittens play-fighting. "She need not stay on my account."

Oraela shook her head. "She will be fine." She turned to Lena. "Betula is from the Fae Lands. One of the connections I made when I last visited the mainland."

So she was one of the Fae? Lena had never seen one before in her life, not even up in Illvey. "Oh? I didn't think any ever came out this far." Oraela kicked her under the table.

Betula smiled patiently. "Few of my kind venture beyond the border since the war."

She remembered the cruel collars from the Illvan dungeons. "The great war? With the rest of the mainland?"

"Oh, yes. It was quite a thing. Foolish, in retrospect. I'm not sure what we were thinking." She sipped something out of a cup Lena recognized as one of Oraela's favorites. Her fingers were very long, and they ended in something closer to claws than nails. "If I had my part to do over with..."

_Wait, what?_ Unable to help herself, she leaned closer. "You were _there_?"

Betula raised her eyebrows, all confusion. "Yes...?"

Oraela kicked her under the table again, harder this time. "Think about what you say before you do."

"Ow! I didn't mean anything by it, it's just, wasn't that forever ago—"

" _Lena._ "

Recognition flashed in the Fae woman's eyes. "Oh! No, it is alright, Oraela. Dear girl, I am a very old woman by your kind's standards, though only middle-aged by my own." She laughed another tinkling laugh.

Face on fire, Lena ducked her head. Holy Mother she was awful at this kind of thing. "Sorry."

The woman sighed. "So long ago now. Sometimes, I miss those days."

Oraela laughed. "Are these days so bad?"

"No, not at all. That is why I said 'sometimes'." She cast a glance upwards. "The sun's path... I must leave you both now. I have an appointment I must make."

Oraela frowned. "If you must."

"I must," she said, pleasantly. "I will see you again very soon. Good bye, Oraela... And good bye, Lena. I am glad to have met you." She sailed out the archway like a dream.

Oraela watched her go. "Lena... I wish you would try harder. You need to learn how to meet people, and talk to them. Leadership is not forged in battle..."

"...but at the table," Lena finished, guiltily. Oraela so desperately wanted her to be a charismatic leader of women, like she was. It broke her heart to constantly disappoint her. She didn't have the brains or the foresight. Fighting was about the only thing she was really good at.

"That's right. Don't worry, Lena. I believe in you."

_I wish you didn't,_ she thought morosely, staring a hole into the ground.

"Now," Oraela began, not in Elgian but Illvan, "what is bothering you so?"

She took a quick look around; the only other people she could find in the garden were the guards posted at the entry. "Are you sure this is private?"

"Do not worry. Few here know Illvan. Tell me. What is wrong?"

What _wasn't_ wrong? She struggled to find a place to start. The problem was so big, and she couldn't find any real shape to it. Maybe she would just go with the worst part. "Mother... I think Tanel is plotting to take over Elgia."

"Lena," she tutted, "Of course Tanel wants to 'take over'. She has been waiting to strike for years. Did you really think I did not know?"

"I know you know she _wants_ to, but I'm saying she might actually move to do it. Soon."

"Yes, she has been making her little deals with the rest of the malcontents." She took a sip from her cup. "That's why I sent her and her friends with you. It will keep them busy while I clean up."

"You what?!" squawked Lena. "You told me it was because she had experience—"

"She does. All of them do."

"—But that means you sent me up there with four _traitors_!" she yelled, unable to control herself. "They could have turned on me at any time! Mother, what—"

"Calm down. I only sent you up there with _three_ traitors. Yae is loyal to me."

She came to a mental halt. "Er, what?"

"You never noticed how much she likes to complain and drag her feet? A weight to keep the others from moving too fast. I'm sure she had a very good time being obnoxious to everyone."

Actually... Yeah, Yae did like to be a pain, didn't she? Second-guessed everyone, not just Lena. She hadn't really thought to distinguish between the types of obnoxiousness displayed by the four.

—But that didn't matter! "That's still three hags waiting to stab me in the back! Me and Door!"

"And guarantee their exile from Elgia? If they had harmed you, or even held you hostage, I would have reduced everything they hold dear to ash. There was a reason I was so generous with our forces when Dorothea asked for aid," she said, grinning into her cup. "I knew the majority going would be theirs. Few remain to cause trouble here."

"But what about Door?" she insisted.

"Dorothea will be fine. We were not the only nation to send aid. It pains me to admit this, but I do not believe our own could pull off a coup within a coup. Not against magic and machine. Trust your friend, Lena. She is not strong of body, but she is intelligent."

The last embers of her anger died out, and Lena was left with almost no feeling at all. "So why did you send for us?"

"Well, with them occupied up there, I wanted you down here to help me do some... Restructuring. It will be good experience for you, and it will make it harder for them to cause trouble in the future."

"But you sent word so long ago. How did you know we would succeed by then?"

"Ah, but I didn't. Next time you see her, thank your friend for me. The 'air-ship' she loaned us has been very useful in delivering messages. It is how I sent for Betula. She will also be helping me take care of things here."

"You've been using an airship? The people in the city acted like they had never seen one before."

"They haven't. It is used only part of the way, restricted to the mainland. I didn't want anyone in Elgia knowing I had one. I asked the crew to be similarly cautious when delivering my letter to Illvey. It should have appeared to come the usual way."

Well... That answered a lot of questions, but... One thing didn't make sense at all. "But why call back Tanel and Ulla, then?"

Oraela's grin faded slightly. "I did not send for them."

A sinking feeling started in her gut. "You didn't? But Ame said they got letters too. They're coming back and taking most of their armies with them."

"No, I..." she stared into the distance. "I sent no such letters, only yours." She frowned deeply, considering this. "Are you sure she wasn't lying?"

"Even Dorothea said three arrived at the same time. Doubt she'd lie to me."

Oraela's frown deepened. "All from me?"

"I guess so. Green and white cord. I, er, never got to see them, but they must have looked official enough for Ame to think it was from you."

A heavy quiet settled as they pondered this. The line forming between Oraela's eyebrows became very sharp.

Lena swallowed. "Mother... Where did the other two come from, if not from you?"

"I do not know," she muttered. "They were added at some point in the trip. Someone is not loyal." She rose from her seat. "Lena... I am sorry, but I must go. Something is not right. We will talk more later."

"A-Alright. Do you need me to do anything?"

"No. No, my little flame, do not worry. I will find the rat soon enough." she smiled at Lena, but it seemed strained. "Continue to rest. And please... Speak of this to no one."

Oraela left, and Lena felt a wave of cold dread wash over.

* * *

The rest of her morning didn't go much better. Her attempt to put in a breakfast order at the kitchens earned her a blistering rebuke from a cook for doing so at the last minute. The woman was clearly at the end of her rope with preparations for tonight's feast; Lena couldn't hold it against her, as Oraela herself would have probably gotten the same treatment.

Knowing that if she was hungry, so too was Raum, she took a quick trip down to the stalls in the city. By the time she got there, most everything cooked up that morning was long gone. She had been just about to return home empty-handed when the Holy Mother finally took pity on her and guided her to a vendor whose table wasn't wholly empty.

The sun was far overhead when she got home with her haul, and Raum was awake. She found him in the big room again, lounging on his side on the chaise across from the windows. The same book from yesterday lay open before him. He raised his head to look at her as she entered, one eyebrow raised in question.

She felt a flicker of warmth as she looked at him, a small relief from the chill dread that had dogged her all morning. "Sorry, didn't mean to just split on you like that. Wanted to get over and talk to mother first thing if I could."

"Hmm. How did it go?"

She paused. 'Speak of this to no one' probably meant Raum too, didn't it? As much as she wanted to tell him... Well, she would think about it for a bit. "She had a visitor, so I didn't get to talk to her long. Anyway, I went and got us something to eat."

Both brows were raised now. "I thought you might have it delivered again."

She walked to the table and began to lay out her shopping: a bottle of wine and two shells of thick bread stuffed with lamb, vegetables, and sauce. "I wanted to, but they got mad at me. I guess the feast tonight is taking up all their time. Went down to market and grabbed something there."

"Am I meant to attend as well?" he asked, nervously.

Poor Raum... He really was having a hard time adjusting. She had always pictured him facing it all in his usual caustic way, utterly unimpressed and more than willing to show it. In fact, she had secretly hoped he would: there were more than a few blowhards, she would have loved to see angry with him and unable to do much about it, given her rank. Unfortunately, it seemed his confidence was shaken now, and he couldn't just slap that fanged mask on anymore. She was going to find the drunk that groped him yesterday and beat her to death. "Well... I think it would be expected. I know mother would notice if I didn't bring you. It's alright! It's a different crowd."

He didn't look entirely convinced, but he didn't look as gloomy, either.

She ventured into the back in search of something for their wine. No water to mix it with, but that was fine; she had never picked up any down there that wasn't mostly water anyway. She returned to find him seated at the table, patiently waiting for her. She joined him, adding the two cups she found to the assortment.

"Am I allowed to eat at the table? Not off the floor, like a dog?"

"Do you really think I'd make you do that?" She grabbed the bottle and poured for them both.

That seemed to mollify him, at least, and he accepted the offered cup with grace. He obviously wasn't sure about the taste, but didn't complain. She wouldn't have blamed him if he had. Illvey very much had them beat for wine, though she would never say so where anyone could hear her.

She noticed him regarding the food with some trepidation. "I know it's not amazing, but it's all I could find on short notice."

He peered up at her, looking a bit guilty. "I don't typically eat meat."

He didn't? Come to think of it, he hadn't eaten any last night, either. Had she ever seen him do so? She couldn't remember. "Really? I didn't know... Sorry—"

He waved his hand dismissively. "It is fine. Take it for your own, I can eat the rest."

She did so, feeling a little foolish. She hadn't even thought to ask. _I have to do better._

They ate in companionable silence. After some time, when the food was long gone and only the bottle remained, she caught him looking at her with mild curiosity. "Who was your mother speaking to?"

She supposed there was no harm in telling him. "A Fae woman. A 'good friend,' I guess. Never seen her before in my life, and... Raum?"

You would think she told him she was going to run him through, the way he looked. His voice was too level, like he was trying his hardest not to let something show. "Why are there Fae out here?"

"I don't really know," she said, watching him carefully. His pupils had contracted to near pinpricks. "She seemed nice enough."

"They always 'seem nice enough.' Lena, don't... Get too close to that woman."

Surprised, she sat fully back. "Why?"

He was quiet for a long time; she could see something happening behind his eyes. "Her kind... Never trust her kind." His gaze drifted down to the edge of the table before him. "You warned me about Tanel. Now, I warn you of the Fae. I do not know what Oraela is doing, but I hope she knows what she is playing with."

She couldn't make sense of it. The contrast between Betula's pleasant manner and Raum's clear terror was so stark. "What's wrong with the Fae?"

He shook his head slowly.

Lunch now fully forgotten, she crawled around the table and sat next to him. She laid her hand over his. He was trembling slightly. "Tell me."

He glanced sidelong at her. "Before I came to Illvey... The smaller kingdoms of the north are always looking for someone like me. Work was very easy to find."

His gaze returned to the table. "All shared a border with the Fae Lands. Interaction was unavoidable, they... They are utterly depraved, and their madness is contagious. Whatever intrigues or scandals you have seen in here or in Illvey, they are nothing compared to what goes on up there."

Was that true? She didn't think she ever heard anything about it in Illvey, but... Now that she thought about it, she hadn't heard anything about the Fae. Almost as if no one wanted to talk about them at all. "Like what?"

"Abuse, torture... Murder, sometimes of entire families, or clans." His eyes briefly flicked to the remains of her lunch. "Cannibalism."

Her stomach tilted.

He looked away. "It is entirely possible this woman is innocent, but... I would not bet on it."

A loud voice outside caused them both to jump. "Le-na!"

Oh no. She had forgotten all about seeing them, what with all the everything else. Of course they would come around to see what was going on. She looked to Raum, who stared back in abject panic. "Shit, it's my sisters. I'm sorry, Raum, I didn't even think..."

"Er," he said, glancing at the door, looking ready to bolt. "I, should, should I be here? Should I go—"

A clatter at the doorway told her there was no time. Shaking her head, she grabbed his book and stuffed it under a cushion. "No, er, um, stay. Just behave for a bit. Don't look anyone in the eye, that kind of thing."

He held her gaze for a second more before quickly moving back to the chaise.

She immediately got to her feet and headed for the door. Last time she didn't get there in time, she had to have a new one put on.

She opened it to find the absolute worst case scenario. Noa, Maija, Rael, and Saen, the full set. She groaned inwardly. She loved them dearly, but why today? Why now?

Noa smiled indulgently at her over the others' heads. "Lena, we wanted to welcome you home."

Maija poked her head in and looked around. "Where's your man at?"

Lena gently laid her hand over her face and shoved her back. "He's here, just... Don't scare him, he's new."

Rael immediately muscled past her. "I want to see."

"I mean it!" Lena yelled at her retreating back. Much to her irritation, the others took the opportunity to push past her as well. "Hey!"

She followed them all in to find Rael and Maija signing their own death warrants as the other two sat themselves at the table.

Rael had gotten hold of his chin, and was inspecting him much like Oraela had yesterday. She smoothed his hair out of his eyes with her other hand. "Wow, those _are_ bright."

"Hey, what's this?" said Maija, before lifting the back of his loincloth up and out of the way. "He's got a constellation back here. How cute!"

Raum squeaked and scrambled away from her, smoothing the cloth back down over himself. Rael drew away in surprise; Maija laughed wickedly.

Feeling murderous, she rushed over and slapped their hands away. "What did I just tell you?! _You're scaring him._ "

"Is he so shy?" Maija asked. "He must be really new then."

Lena roughly shoved her to the other side of the room. "Yes, he is, and you are going to _leave him alone._ " The awful woman laughed again, but let herself be driven away.

Rael was unimpressed. "Come on, you can't expect us not to look."

She grabbed her by the arm and pulled her away from him. "Look all you want, but _no touching_."

"Fine," grumbled Rael, who allowed herself to be pulled.

She tossed a look back at Raum. He surreptitiously glared at her from under his eyelashes; she grimaced an apology back. It really was unfair to subject him to all of them in one go.

Once the troublemakers were settled at the table, she joined them, sitting at the side opposite to Raum. At least if she kept an eye on him, she wouldn't have to worry about anyone doing anything while she was distracted. "Sorry, there was a lot to do yesterday. I was going to come visit everyone, really. Anyway, tell me how you've all been doing. Have some wine."

They did, though there wasn't much to tell. Noa had plenty to say about her children, as always; Maija, who was deeply involved in the merchant guilds, had plenty of things to share that nobody else understood at all; Rael complained yet again about being forced to stay behind as Lena went on to 'hog all the glory'; Saen said very little, very briefly.

After some time, the conversation turned to Raum, just as she had hoped it wouldn't.

"He's so pale!" Noa exclaimed. "He must be from way up north."

Rael laughed. "It's amazing that he didn't burn out there yesterday. Stupid, you probably dragged him all around without a thought, didn't you?"

Oh no. She hadn't thought about that _at all_. She looked up to find he had turned away from them all sometime during the conversation, still laying on his side. With some amusement, she noted the pillow arranged to block his backside from everyone's line of sight.

He looked fine to her. Still, maybe she should go down to the markets again and find some salve, just in case. Holy Mother, she really was terrible at taking care of him.

Saen stared at him with obvious disapproval. "He's not very well trained. I saw that look he gave you a minute ago. And why is he on the furniture?"

"He's fine," she pouted. "he's actually very sweet, when he wants to be. Can't help it if _some people here_ are determined to be awful."

Maija grinned at her.

Rael studied him thoughtfully. "Is that one of those sealing collars? With the fancy marks?"

Lena nodded, and sensing a chance to show off, threw herself into it. "Yeah. He's got some power. Enough to do this," she pulled down the collar of her shirt, revealing the branch-like scarring across her shoulder to gasps of awe.

Maija's eyes went wide, and she whirled around to stare at him again.

"So don't get any ideas about doing that again, or I'll let him zap you," she muttered.

Rael laughed heartily. "Have him do it anyway, I want to see." Noa shushed her.

Saen frowned. "You'll 'let' him?"

She resisted the urge to slap Maija's upside the head for looking too much. "It doesn't seal permanently, just, I have to give him permission."

Her negotiations with the merchant yesterday had not been totally one-sided. She had wrangled some very specific enchantments out of the woman, such as the one that made it possible to allow for specific uses of magic. She had done so with Raum's shaving routine in mind; it was only just now that it occurred to her she could allow more.

Saen's expression turned sour. "That's dangerous. You shouldn't have something dangerous like that. If he ever hurt anyone, he would have to be put to death."

"I was joking," she hissed, angry. Maybe Saen was only warning her, but even thinking about such a thing happening to her Raum...

"I wasn't," chirped Rael. Noa shushed her again.

Saen frowned deeply at her, but said no more.

She needed to change the topic of conversation. "I guess we're having a feast later."

Rael brightened up at that. "That's right! A little one for our Lena. Congratulations on not dying, by the way."

" _Oh,_ " Maija began, eyes full of mischief, "that reminds me, I saw the funniest thing this morning. That obnoxious ass, Ulla, was horking her breakfast into the harbor. Least awful thing that's ever come from her mouth."

Lena's blood froze. "Ulla? But she's still on the mainland."

"I guess not! Turns out a second air-ship came today, carrying her and Tanel!" She grinned at Lena. "Guess you're going to have to share your party with them tonight."

Noa looked at her with some concern. "Are you alright? You're looking nearly as pale as your man."

"I'm fine," she lied.

* * *

Well, that was awful.

He furtively glanced back over his shoulder at the gathering. They were very definitely Lena's sisters. There were small differences between the four, possibly due to having different sires, but Oraela's features were strong in each.

If he had to guess, the tallest was probably the eldest. The evil woman who had peeked under his loincloth was probably the next. The one that had stared into his face so intently was likely the third, and...

It was the last sister that caught his interest. If he hadn't known Lena was the youngest, he would have assumed this was her little sister. She had the sullen manner of a teenager; her answers to her sisters were short and perfunctory. It wasn't until he had listened for a while that he realized she was especially irritable with Lena. Sibling rivalry, perhaps?

Save for a few minutes where he was horribly certain he was the topic of conversation, they mostly ignored him, conversing animatedly in Elgian amongst themselves.

Eventually there was a change of tone in the conversation: a note of concern in the voice of the eldest, a faintness to Lena's. He took another peek. Something was going on there, some news had been delivered that Lena did not care for.

It seemed Lena was making some excuses now, trying to gently end the visit. The two that had manhandled him earlier seemed the most resistant to the idea; the evil one tossed him another look, as if she were considering more trouble. Fortunately for him, the combined might of too-pale Lena and the now very concerned eldest was more than enough to end the visit. With much grumbling and big shows of reluctance, they were soon chased out—very literally in the case of the armored sister, who had given him a pat on the head on her way past. The sullen sister looked down her nose at him as she passed, but said nothing.

A moment later, Lena returned. She still looked rather ill. "Raum, I'm sorry, I..."

He sat up, twisting around to face her. "I am fine; you are not. What happened?"

She sat down next to him, heavily enough to make the chaise move slightly. "Something is very wrong, and I have this feeling something bad is going to happen."

He had never heard her voice tremble so. He did his best to gentle his voice. "Is it because I spoke of the Fae earlier?"

She shook her head. "No, Maija said..." she paused.

He waited, watching her expression subtly shift with her thoughts. After some time, she seemed to come to a decision. "When I went to see mother this morning..."

He listened to her recounting of the conversation with great interest. Several mysteries solved, but some questions remained. "That does leave fewer points along the path of message transmission to insert extras in, yet... She must trust her couriers very much if she expects them to keep an airship secret."

She nodded. "Yeah, of course. They're all family. Extended family, I mean. Can't get a job doing that unless you are. None of them would ever betray us." She frowned at him. "Don't look at me like that. It would be unforgivable. Everyone else in the family would tear them apart."

It still sounded dodgy to him, but he would let it go for now. "Now, what did 'Maija' say?"

She swallowed. "Tanel and Ulla are here, came in this morning on an airship."

Ah. Yes, that was concerning news. "They must have found out about your special treatment and demanded the same."

"I hope they didn't harass Door too much." She frowned. "I guess their armies must still be going the old way?"

"It would depend on what kind of airships were available to Dorothea; you would know better than I."

Her frown deepened. "There were some troop carriers, but they're all stationed elsewhere, I think." She winced. "Shit, I forgot to tell her about Donte's letter."

"You will have to tell her tonight, then. Whether she has time or not."

"Yeah..." Her gaze fell to a point on the ground between her feet. "Raum... I'm too _stupid_ for this sort of thing. I'm not like you, or mother, or Door. I can't guess at how or why people do what they do. I can't plan ahead like that. I only know how to fight, and sometimes, get people to like me." She suddenly looked at him, eyes shining with tears. "Raum, what do I do? I want to protect you all. But I don't know what to do."

Oh dear. He had no experience with this sort of thing. He had never been in the business of feelings. Not good ones, anyway. He took her hand in both of his. He couldn't warm her like she could warm him, but he supposed the thought counted for something. "Sometimes there is little you can do but watch, and wait."

She stared at their nested hands. "I hate waiting."

"Then concentrate on watching. It will make the time go faster." He paused. If she wanted a plan, he would give her one. "Pay close attention to their actions tonight, at the feast. You might see or hear something interesting."

"Do you think so?" she asked, voice soft.

"Crowds of self-obsessed people like to talk. Liberal amounts of alcohol make them talk too much."

She peered up at him. "Is that why you were always sneaking around the parties at the palace? Listening to people say things they shouldn't?"

He smirked. "I was not there to have fun."

Her wobbly frown gradually changed into a wobbly smile. "Alright. I can do that." She drew her hand from his, stood and planted a kiss on his cheek. "Thank you, Raum."

"Of course," he half-muttered, half-coughed. He hoped he wasn't as red as he thought he was. Such words didn't get directed at him often.

She stared at him, worrying her lower lip between her teeth.

"What is it?"

"I'm just shocked that you would help me."

So was he. He cleared his throat. "If I am going to be here anyway... I would like to know what is going on."

"Of course you would," Her smile faded. "I just realized... They're going to see you at the feast. Tanel and Ulla, I mean. I was hoping they wouldn't know about you for a while."

"I doubt they would harm me here. You would not stand for it, thus your ever doting mother would not either."

She seemed satisfied with that; a much stronger smile spread over her face. After a moment, she suddenly brightened. "I have an idea."

That was more ominous than he would've liked.


	11. Kindness Remembered, and Rewarded

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel like most of this chapter is somewhat unnecessary but it's in the outline and partially an excuse for Lena to be a big perv so here we go

_Lena was glad the weather had decided to play along today. She didn't care for rain, but it all would have felt somehow worse if it was warm and sunny out._

_She knew the particular grief of losing a parent. It was a cold, heavy, gray thing, like a iron weight. It had threatened to crush the very life out of her back then; now, almost ten years later, there were days when she could feel it settle back onto her shoulders._

_They were hiding. Not in the hideaway, since someone might think to look for them there, but in a second location that had almost been it: an abandoned outbuilding that Door said used to be an icehouse. They had loved how remote it was to everything else, but the partially fallen-in roof and crumbling west wall had landed it the reject pile._

_The girl was shaking so violently that Lena was half afraid she might come apart in her arms. It was mostly from the crying, but the cold probably played a part in it. The gap in the ceiling was too big for her to do anything about right now. They would just have to keep to this corner and huddle together for a while longer._

_Door's sobs were so loud in the little space. Lena hugged her friend tighter, making vague soothing noises; she didn't want to stifle her, but she didn't want anyone tracing the noise here and finding them, either._

_Door let out a particularly ugly sob._

_She didn't know what to do. Her mother might have, but she didn't know how to be her mother, she only knew how to be herself. She would fight anybody for Door, but she didn't know how to fight things she couldn't see._

_She stroked her friend's hair. "It's alright Door. It's alright. They won't find us out here. I'll lead them away if they come."_

_The gray skies made it hard for Lena to keep track of time, but it seemed like they stayed like that for hours. Eventually, Door's sobs started to quiet, before subsiding altogether._

_"I hate him," she said, quietly._

_Lena said nothing._

_"_ I hate him, _" she continued, in a strange and distant voice. "Today isn't about her. It's about him."_

_There was no denying that, even if Lena had wanted to._

_Her friend stared into the distance, somewhere beyond the closed door. "He treated her like_ trash _. He exiled her in all but name. Because she said_ no _, just this once. He doesn't care about Anne and he didn't care about her."_

_They sat in silence for a while._

_"He killed her, Lena."_

_She flinched. "Door, you don't know that—"_

_"Yes I do," Door whispered, somehow still managing to talk over her. "He kept her away from us so we wouldn't catch him at it. Poison. It's as plain as day."_

_There was nothing to say to that. It's wasn't like Lena hadn't heard the rumors going around._

_"She looked so frail the last time I saw her."_

_In the long silence that followed, she cast about for something, anything to say. Nothing came._

_When next Door spoke, her voice was low and grave, like the toll of a great big bell. "I'll kill him."_

_She felt a chill run up her spine._

_"He demands to be loved, but I will not love him," she uttered, "he demands to be praised, but I will not praise him."_

_Door had always been a very serious kind of girl. She was never bubbly, or giggly; no one would ever accuse her of having a playful personality. But she was warm, and kind, and thoughtful._ _Her voice now... It was so cold, and hard. The hate in it didn't cut, or smash, or burn. It was too big. Vast._

_"I will hate him. I will destroy him. Everything he has made, I will unmake."_

_Lena knew rage. Explosive, hateful, violent rage. The very core of her martial training revolved around how to make it work for her, how to make one's wish to tear someone's head off manifest. Rage was dynamic, loud, forceful, intoxicating; you could dance with rage, you could swing it around as readily as it could you._

_"I'll make sure he lives just long enough to see everything he loves in ruins. I want him to know that I did it."_

_She didn't know this. It sounded like rage, and it definitely made sense for Door to feel such, yet... She was so still. Her voice was steady, words precise._

_Door's rage didn't dance. It loomed._

_"...And then I'll kill him."_

_Distantly, she heard the crunch-rush-crunch of someone walking through neglected grass._

_She clapped her hand over the girl's mouth. "_ Shh. _Someone's out there. Just... Stay here. Don't say anymore. I'll go look."_

_Door said nothing, only continued to gaze somewhere far beyond what Lena could see._

_She let go and sprang lightly to her feet. She had been allowed to wear traditional Elgian dress for the funeral, and the thin skirt was easier to gird her loins with than the big poofy things so fashionable up here. Rather than open the door and maybe expose her friend to whoever was snooping around, she quickly climbed up the debris of the wall and through the hole in the roof._

_Once out, she swiftly swung over the edge and landed next to the wall. Keeping a low profile, she sneaked around the outside of the structure, gingerly peeking through the overgrowth that had been trying to swallow it whole for years._

_As she came around the front, she spotted the intruder a little ways away, regarding the various other outbuildings with suspicion._

_She cursed her luck. Of all people._

_Keeping low to the ground, she doubled back and traveled a semicircle around the area. When she came alongside a small structure of unknown purpose at the end of her arc, she straightened up and walked noisily towards his back. He couldn't find Door if he couldn't tell where she came from, after all._

_Raum glanced over his shoulder. He looked unimpressed—well, he always had that look on him, but he looked particularly so now. He said nothing, only watched her approach with narrowed eyes._

_She stopped a little ways away. Talking to him was hard enough on normal days; she wasn't sure how she was going to manage now, nervy as she was._

_"The King," he began, loudly, "is looking for Dorothea."_

_She was sure he was loud enough that Door could hear him. She hoped the girl would keep quiet while she figured this out._

_When she didn't answer right away, he turned back to the building he had been studying. "All ceremonies are on hold until she is found."_

_Damn it. The point was to get her out of there so she wouldn't have to watch the big clod swan around._

_"She isn't here," she blurted. She winced immediately after._ That didn't sound convincing at all.

_The look he tossed her over his shoulder said much the same thing._

_This was awful. Why couldn't someone stupider have come out here? She cleared her throat and tried again. "I don't know where she is, but she's not here with me."_

_He looked at her a moment more, then turned and began to close the distance. As he approached, she saw his hair and cloak were pitch black with wet; he had been out and about for some time, then. He came to a stop a couple arm lengths before her. "Then why are you out here?"_

_Shit. That was a good question. "I... I was bored. It just kept going on and on, and... She's dead. Don't need to drag it out like that. Not like she can enjoy it." She cringed at her own words._

_"Funerals are for the living," he said. He was studying her now, and she could tell he was waiting for her to give something away._

_She crossed her arms and did her very best not to look at the icehouse. "That one was making me wish I wasn't."_

_He raised an eyebrow, but he didn't look angry. She wouldn't fool herself into thinking he had a smile growing there._

_She stared at her feet before she gave in to the compulsion to do the exact wrong thing. "She probably left for the same reason, didn't want to be there."_

_He glanced at another building, one uncomfortably close to the icehouse. "He wants her there."_

_"Well, what if she doesn't want to be there?" she said, hotly. "What if she doesn't want to see him right now."_

_"She is hardly special." His gaze came back to her; it flicked down to her knees for a fraction of a second. "Aren't you a little old to be monkeying around out here?"_

_Shit! She forgot to put her dress back. Her face was hot. "I wasn't! I just didn't want my dress to get wet from the grass."_

_He looked thoroughly unconvinced. His gaze slid back to the outbuildings, and he started to make his way towards the one he had been looking at earlier._

_No! She couldn't let him snoop around. Even if Door stayed quiet, he was the nosy type, and he'd definitely find her. She followed him. "Why aren't_ you _at the funeral, then? If it's so important."_

_He didn't look at her. He came to a stop just outside the building, which she vaguely remembered Door calling a dairy. All that stood of it now were three walls and a sliver of the roof. "Because I am out here, looking for Dorothea. Do keep up."_

_She_ hated _him, she hated that he was smart, she hated that he knew she wasn't smart. She was suddenly angry with herself for ever thinking he was pretty, or interesting, or even just not evil. Awful, horrible, terrible man. "Well, I told you. She's not here. If anyone would know where she_ wasn't _, it would be me."_

_The unimpressed look was back in force. "Do you really expect me to believe that she is not with you?"_

_She winced. "She's not!"_

_"You both just happened to disappear at the same time, independently?"_

_"H-How would I know when she disappeared? How do you know we did, anyway?"_

_He studied her intently. She found herself squirming under his unblinking stare. "You seem remarkably unconcerned to learn your best friend has suddenly gone missing."_

Fuck. _She wished she was better at spinning up stories. "It's not that I'm unconcerned, just... I know Door, and she would never go anywhere that wasn't safe, so."_

_"Safe from what?"_

_"Well, the wind, and the rain, and—" she clammed up before she continued with 'people who are after her.'_

_"The wind and the rain..." his gaze skimmed over the top of her head._

_That's when she remembered the icehouse was the only structure out here with almost four walls and any roof to speak of._

_He suddenly brushed past her, making a beeline for the icehouse. "Thank you for your cooperation, Princess."_

Agh! _She was so stupid sometimes! But the self-hatred would have to wait; he was rapidly approaching the little building. She dashed ahead of him. "She's not—"_

_"Too late," he near-sang. "I was sure she was here with you, I only needed to know exactly where."_

_She felt the rage-burn immediately shoot up to her neck. "I-It doesn't matter! She's not going back!"_

_"She is," he said, weaving around her. "She has to. Her rank comes with responsibilities. She knows this."_

_They were dangerously close to Door now. Lena hoped she hadn't heard that; her sense of responsibility was so strong that she might really go back and suffer through it all._

_She dashed ahead again, this time taking up a more aggressive stance just before the icehouse door. "I_ said _she's not going back."_

_He halted just before her, eyes narrowed to slits._

_"Don't make me angry," she warned._

_"Lena," he drawled, soft and quiet. "Are you threatening me?"_

_Some disconnected part of her mind thrilled at hearing her name from his mouth; clearly, word hadn't gotten around on how much she hated him now. She would gouge it out later if she had to. "Maybe."_

_They stared at one another._

_"She can't go back," she said, hating the crackle in her voice._

_He looked mildly uncomfortable for a moment, but it passed as quickly as it came. "Princess—"_

_"I mean it. She can't. It's too horrible to watch him—"_

_"It doesn't mat—"_

_"_ He's hurting her! _" she shouted in his face._

_He drew back as if slapped._

_In the quiet that followed, the patter of the rain wasn't enough to drown out Door's sobs from within._

_"That's why..." she looked away, feeling tears prickling at her eyes. "she can't."_

_She didn't hear him move toward or away, or say anything. When she finally plucked up the courage to look at him, she found him changed. The smarmy, venomous irritation from earlier was long gone; he looked deeply unhappy, even ill. He stared into the distance, scratching his chin._

_"I don't care what the King wants," she muttered. "He's awful."_

_His frown became much deeper, but he didn't try to correct her. His eyebrows drew down by degrees._

_Door's weeping had quieted again. She desperately wanted to go inside and check on her._

_Finally, he spoke. "When..."_

_She started at the sound of his voice._

_He coughed. "When you find her... Send her to her rooms."_

_She stared at him, afraid to breathe._

_He turned away. "I will notify her guard to watch for you there."_

_She didn't dare hope. "What about the King? And the ceremonies?"_

_"I'll take care of it," he hissed. "just... Do as I say." He began to walk away._

_'When you find her' meant she could decide when to bring Door back. 'I'll take care of it' meant no one else would come out here looking for them._

_She had manners; she should show them sometimes. "Raum!"_

_He halted, looking back over his shoulder._

_"Thank you!"_

_He immediately turned back, waving dismissively. She watched him stalk away through the tall grass._ _But she had seen it... That tinge of pink spreading over the back of his neck and ears._

_That disconnected part of her brain she had cursed earlier lit up with happiness. She would let it stay, then._

_She heard Door behind her, muffled by the icehouse door. "Did he leave?"_

_"Yeah," she said, half-awed. She quickly joined her inside. "I think we're alright for a while longer."_

_"You don't think it's some kind of trick?"_

_She thought back to his face at the end, serious and worried. "No... Think he was honest."_

_Door looked skeptical._

_"He's not all bad, you know," she huffed. "Sometimes he's even alright. Anyway, we have time, so... Take all you need."_

_Three months later, she would buy a single bangle of blue-green jade at the markets in Elgia._

_Saen would tell her it didn't match anything she owned._

_She would tell Saen to shut up and mind her own business._

* * *

As grand as the communal baths of the city were, Oraela had long ago decided they were nowhere near grand enough for the Queen and her offspring to use. Thus, a private bathing complex was built just for the royal family, not far from the main house, hidden among the dense trees.

The Queen had spared no expense in its creation. It was as if a chunk of nearby Lun had been broken off and sat in the middle of the forest: all white stone, elaborate mosaics, and colorful banners and canopies. A Vyssian engineer had been hired to design the system that brought clean water inside and heated it for use; he was probably the only male to have ever received payment for work from an Elgian. He more than deserved it, in Lena's opinion.

There was a large pool for cooling off near the entrance. It was surrounded on three sides by five walled-in squares, two on either side and one at the back; these all housed smaller, deeper pools that could be filled with hot water for bathing and drained when finished. All contained at least one fountain or waterfall, half for decoration and half to allow for rinsing off at the end.

She was pleased to see Raum, who had dragged his feet the entire way up, appropriately awed. "This is... How long has this been here?"

"Not sure," she said, searching for signs of life. There didn't seem to be anyone about; the servant she had sent ahead to prepare things had left, too. Good. "I know it was built before I was born."

She followed the sound of rushing water to the walled-off area at the very back, pulling Raum along with her as she did. "Oh good, this one's my favorite."

The awe from earlier wasn't enough to smother his usual bashfulness; she felt him try to pull her back. "Wait, about this—Is it really necessary for both of us to—"

"Of course," she said, brightly. "It's very common to bring your man with you, get it all done at once." _Have some fun while you're there, maybe._

As they crossed the threshold of the bathing chamber, she was happy to see the fountain still in working order; the surface of the pool rippled all around it. The steam in the air said the heating mechanism was, too.

Excited, she immediately started to disrobe. This was much easier to do in Elgian dress, as without the profusion of buttons to fuss with, she was done in mere seconds. She tossed her clothes in the basket by the door. When she glanced back at Raum, he was looking elsewhere, a deep blush spreading rapidly over his face. She rolled her eyes. " _Raum._ You've seen me before."

"F-Forgive me if decades of culture can't be overwritten over the course of a few days," he huffed, but it wasn't heated. "What is normal to you is very much not for me."

She moved to stand in front of him, fists at her hips. "Now it's your turn."

He glanced at her, was immediately reminded why he had looked away in the first place, then quickly did so again. "I'm barely wearing anything anyway!"

"That doesn't have the same water-repelling charms that the collar and shackles do."

"Of course not," he muttered.

She approached him and hooked her thumbs under the belt, pulling down just hard enough to make her threat clear. "If you don't, I will."

He grabbed her wrists. "Don't! Don't, don't..." He eyes flicked heavenward. "I'll do it, just... Get in first. I will join you."

She stifled a smile at how familiar the situation was. " _Raum._ "

"I swear it!"

Humming doubtfully, she turned and made her way down the sunken steps at the side that led to the bottom of the pool. Her feet had just met the ground, waterline at her hips, when she was startled by an cacophony of jingling and a big splash behind her.

She turned around to find Raum already in the water. He had apparently already found the ledge meant for sitting on, and was covered up to his midsection.

"I did as you asked," he grumbled. "Don't complain."

He was ridiculous; she adored him. She made her way over.

He kept his eyes averted. "D-Don't let me distract you from your routine."

"Too late," she slid her hands along either side of his head, cradling his face. "You're too cute." She kissed the soft skin near the outer corner of his eye. His face was almost as hot as the water.

He made as if to say something, decided better of it, and immediately shut his mouth again.

She scrubbed her thumbs along his cheeks, feeling the stubble there. "Oh! That reminds me. I got a special enchantment on that collar. I can let you do some magic, like for shaving."

His eyes flicked to hers. "I can?"

"Yes!" She sat next to him on the ledge, the water just covering her breasts. "Try it. I'd like to see."

He regarded her a moment, eyebrows raised. Slowly bringing one hand to his face, he started to feel around his jaw. A quiet hiss came from under his thumb as it carved a pale streak through the dark bristles.

She couldn't help herself; she clapped her hands in excitement. "That's amazing!"

"Is it?" he mumbled, continuing the work. "It lost its entertainment value for me some time ago."

The smell of burning hair soon reached her, mixed with the thunderstorm tang of magic. She wrinkled her nose. "That smells awful."

He hummed in agreement. "An unfortunate side effect. It will fade soon. There will not be anything left to smell." He glanced at her. "Am I only allowed to do this when you tell me so?"

"No, I give you permission to whenever you need to."

He seemed pleased by this. "Understood."

She wondered if maybe he missed being able to use his magic. Was it like losing one of your senses? She felt a little pang of guilt. She would have to find more reasons to allow him, then. _Actually..._ "Can you do that to other people?"

He looked thoughtful as he swiped over his upper lip. "I suppose. I have never tried it before."

She grabbed his arm. "Then do me too!"

He gave her a strange look.

"My legs," She rubbed one against one of his, stifling a laugh when he jumped at the contact. "Haven't done them lately, and I want to know what that feels like."

"Ah," he began. And ended.

"It's alright. Here," she turned to face him, arcing her legs over his lap. Her knees poked out of the water like symmetrical islands. "Just like you did on your face just now."

He eyed the exposed skin, reddening again. "I'm not sure that's—"

"It's an order."

He swallowed deeply. "A-As you command, then."

She felt him wrap his hands around her leg, just below her right knee, and slowly pull them down over her calf. A heated tingle flared where his skin came in contact with hers.

When he reached her ankle, he let go. "Did it hurt?"

"No, not at all," she said, moving to stroke the area. It was completely smooth, without bumps or knicks. She was throwing that shaving kit away as soon as they got back. "Do the rest!"

"I will, only," he pushed her legs off his lap and moved to kneel before her. The water came up to his chest. "Let me do it this way."

She felt him pull her other leg out, resting her heel on his bended knee. The circle of tingling began again just under her other knee and ended at her ankle. She loved the feel of his hands on her. His grip was gentle, his pace slow; with him kneeling before her, it felt like worship. "Get the upper legs, too."

He peered up at her, pink at the ears. "Are you sure?"

"Of course. Why..." she trailed off, realizing why he was so nervous. She grinned. "It's alright. Your face was down there the other day."

The poor man suddenly experienced an incredible coughing fit. Once it was over, he was sure to look everywhere but at her. "V-Very well."

She felt him gingerly lift one of her thighs so he could stroke underneath with one hand, from just under her buttock to under her knee. Several such strokes later, the outside thigh was finished; she felt him hesitate. "Keep going, now."

After a moment, he did so, quick and businesslike. He finished and did the other leg in much the same fashion before letting go and moving back. "It is done."

_We'll try this again above water. Can't put it out of your mind then, can you?_ She felt along her legs. All smooth, not a single hair missed as far as she could tell. "Very good. Now come back up here."

He did so, sitting slightly farther away this time. Still pink but frowning, he cast her a sidelong glance. "You enjoy teasing me too much."

"I enjoy you in general," she purred, reaching out to run her hand up along his inner thigh.

He jolted and grabbed her wrist again. "I thought you wanted to take a bath," he hissed.

"Well, yeah. but I want to play with my Raum, too." She reached over with her other hand, hooked a finger through the ring of the shackle on his gripping hand and tugged.

He got the message and let her go. "I don't see—"

She immediately drew all the way up, and the back of her hand felt something very interesting there. He squawked in response, both hands grabbing her arm in panic.

She laughed. "Is that why you wanted to move just now? So I wouldn't feel that?"

He had gone completely red again. He tried to tug her hand away, but she only gripped his leg harder. "I-It's a physiologic—physiological response, only—nothing m-more—no control over—"

She thought briefly about grabbing him there. As appealing as the idea was, she decided against it; she wanted to tease him more. She let him pull her hand away. "Well, if that's what it is."

" _It is._ "

It was hard not to laugh. She liked ridiculous, prissy Raum almost as much as she liked desperate, needy Raum. Adorable. "You must like my legs. Come to think of it, you seemed to like the look of them on the ship, too."

He mumbled something indistinct, gaze fixed elsewhere.

Speaking of looking... She perked up at her new plan. "Oh! That reminds me. Stand up."

His gaze briefly went heavenward again. "Why should I do that?"

"I want to see your constellation. I didn't get a good look last time."

"My what?" he asked, utterly bewildered. A second later, the answer dawned on him; the change in his expression was so fast she wasn't sure if she had actually seen it. "No!"

She fought down a grin as she tried putting some authority on her voice, but she could hear it trying to break though at the edges. "Are you disobeying me?"

He winced. "I..."

"Then let me look."

His inner turmoil was plain, but soon over; judging from the long-suffering look on his face, he must have weighed embarrassment against punishment and decided on the former. With some further grumbling, he rose, turning away from her.

It was a very cute bottom. In her experience, men that didn't exercise much didn't usually have such. Maybe all that stalking around up at the palace had been just enough. A collection of moles on his right side formed a vague shape, something like a lopsided fishhook.

Looked good for squeezing. So... Why not.

She might have actually seen him jump out of his own skin for a second there. He quickly moved to knock her hands away and cover it with his own, glaring at her over his shoulder. "You were only supposed to _look_!"

She grinned, cupping his buttocks again and giving them another squeeze. He was fully tensed back there this time. "It's alright, isn't it? You're mine, so this is mine. I can grope all I want."

The back of his neck was as red as his face now, and he made as if to move away. "I am not—"

She gave the right one a good slap. It bounced just enough to delight.

He suddenly froze in place, one absolutely mortified eye fixed on her now.

She quickly rose and grabbed hold of the back of his collar, pulling him backwards into her; he didn't fight, possibly too stunned to try. Rubbing over the place she had struck, she tried for commanding again, but ended up closer to mischievous. "Don't make me punish you again."

He made some strange crackling noises in the back of his throat, but didn't manage anything else.

"Though..." she pulled the collar back more, bending him backwards slightly so she could better whisper in one crimson ear, "You didn't seem to hate it too much last time?"

More crackling came at that. He soon gave up on trying to speak and clapped his hands over his face.

"Hmm?"

He shook his head. Maybe he thought if he didn't respond, she wouldn't have anything to work with.

Adorably foolish man.

She gave it another thwack. She hadn't paid attention the first time when they got up to this, but it was really very nice to smack, wasn't it? Just bouncy enough, firm enough. She'd have to try it again when she had a better view.

He drew in a great gulp of air and slid his hands just far enough down his face to reveal his now wild eyes. "I d-didn't do anything that t-time!"

Again she rubbed the area. Felt much hotter than the water now. "Well, I thought I'd give you one for a reward, too."

He let a high whine out of his nose and screwed his eyes shut.

She grinned down at her work. His pale skin made even just one or two slaps stand out so much! She squeezed him again as she whispered in his ear. "Did you know there's a place in here that can drive a man wild?"

His eyes popped open. "W-What?"

"Inside here. Can hit it with a finger, or something else," her grin must be diabolical now. "I've seen men lose their minds over it."

"T-There is, is a-absolutely _nothing_ in, in t-there of any, any interest to a-anybody." he stuttered in horror, pressing his lips into his curled fingers.

Tsk. Illvan men. As much as she wanted to try it... If he was that nervous, she would let it rest for the moment. A shame, though. Such a cute bottom. She hummed in thought, just to keep him in suspense a moment longer.

He watched her nervously. "L-Lena. Must we do this—"

"You know," she interrupted. "you've been rotten lately."

He flinched. It was true, and both of them knew it.

She forced him to bend back further so she could rest her chin on his shoulder. "Maybe you _do_ need another punishment."

"I'll behave!" he blurted, trying to straighten himself. "Don't, don't, _don't_. I'll b-behave."

"I don't know if I believe you," she purred, drawing her hand back just far enough for him to see.

"I swear it!" he nearly shouted.

His breathing was ragged now, and oh if that wasn't music to her ears. She hummed in thought again.

"Lena... _Please._ "

"Well... Alright," she released the collar and made her way back over to the submerged ledge. As she sat back down, he attempted to collect himself. Didn't look like he was doing a particularly great job of it. "Prove it. Come over here and help me wash up."

He turned slightly, facing her with his upper body while keeping the lower just out of sight. "I-I'm sorry?"

"Come over here and serve me. If you do a good job, no punishment. Alright?"

He seemed to balk at that. "I.."

She didn't bother to hide her grin this time. "You really do want me to, don't you—"

"No! No, no..." he let out a shuddering sigh. "I'll do as you say. Give me a m-moment."

Eventually, he came to kneel before her again and set to work. It took some prodding to get him to do it properly, especially about her breasts and between her legs. Like that day on the airship, she could tell it wasn't disgust but reservation that made him hesitate. Bit silly, in her opinion, but it was hard not to bask in his careful, nigh-reverent attention.

Occasionally she smoothed his hair away from his face to get a better look at his reddened cheeks, his little frown of concentration. Though the light tremble in his hands never fully went away, he did gain some confidence from her praise as he worked. It only faltered when she took it in her head to tease him about whether he was enjoying himself or not.

"Good, good," she murmured, stroking his hair once more as he let his hands drop into the water. "Now, was that really so bad? Touching me?"

His gaze was fixed somewhere just beyond her right shoulder. "Of course not."

"So you did enjoy it?" she traced a toe up his inner thigh. "Maybe here?"

He suddenly jerked back. "N-No need for that!"

So he really did. Good thing, because she was definitely going to make him do it again next time. "Now.. I'll do you. As a reward."

"I-I don't need it," he said, just a little too quickly.

The laugh she let out then was a little more wicked than she had been aiming for, but the look on Raum's face made that more than alright. "The reward isn't for _you_."

"Oh," he croaked, eyes wide.

"Get up here."

Two threats of punishment later, she had him sitting next to her again, subtly trying to hide his stiff member from her. That was fine; she didn't mind if he wanted to suffer for a while longer. It would make undoing him much easier later.

If Raum's touch had been worship, hers was plunder. She didn't need coaxing to touch him all over, not at all, and his panicked squeaks and stuttered breaths just made her that much more determined to continue.

His skin was soft and sleek everywhere she touched. She wished to taste it, but knew a mouthful of soap would probably ruin the experience. He was lucky it did taste so foul; she wanted so badly to suck and bite on his nipples again. She settled for the occasional peck on each newly discovered mole instead.

Sometimes he would try to pull away, and she would have to take hold of the collar or a shackled wrist to keep him in place. He never fought her on this; she wondered if maybe he rather liked being forced so. Maybe she _should_ chain him to the bed again? An idea for later, anyway.

She was a little disappointed to find no trace left of her bite marks from the first time she had him. She would have to replace those again sometime soon. For now, his absolute embarrassment with her close examination of the area was a was a decent trade.

She knew she was being obnoxiously pervy, but she couldn't help it. The thrill of being able to touch him and the adorable ways he reacted were just too much to resist. Her teasing became even more frequent: _Do you like it when I touch you there? Or here? Oh, you do like that, don't you. Let's try it again—No? You won't let me? But it's mine, isn't it? Yes, it is..._

By the time she was through, he had just about entirely lost the power of speech and trembled violently under her touch. The back of his hand was ruined with bite marks: evidence of his trying to keep his voice under control during her exploration. It hadn't helped much; his whines and gasps weren't easily muffled.

The only thing stopping her from ravishing him then and there was the sure knowledge that if they were to be interrupted in the middle by a servant or visitor, she would _lose her shit_. She would just have to be patient. _We have tonight, after the feast. That'll be my personal celebration dinner._

Finally, she let him go. He seemed to collapse in exhaustion, eyes closed and shoulders slumped. He continued to cover himself with his hands, but that was largely pointless now—there was no hiding that.

She watched him as he tried to catch his breath. Utterly wrecked, just how she liked him. She smirked. "Now, was _that_ so bad?"

He took in a long, shuddering breath. A moment later, his eyes opened slightly. "D-Don't see w-what's s... So rew-warding about th-this f-for you."

She leaned over, meeting his gaze on the same level. "But this is my favorite thing! I get to play with such a pretty man, and make him make pretty noises."

He shook his head. "Should... W-Want some, someone el-else. N-not me. N-not the Viper."

Now where did that come from? She gave him her wickedest grin. "But I know if I pet this viper enough, he'll turn into a sweet kitten and beg me for more. That's my _other_ favorite thing, you know?"

He turned his face away, mumbling something too low to hear.

Her eyes flicked down to his terrible attempt at modesty. "Now... I think I want my show."

He seemed to draw some energy from how much he didn't want to hear that, suddenly sitting up straighter and looking directly at her. "A-Absolutely not!"

"You're disobeying me again," she warned, but her grin ruined the effect somewhat. "Which is it going to be, show or punishment?"

He grimaced, sucking air through his teeth. "Can't y-you just... Let it go. The f-feast, we have to go to..."

"You don't want relief?" she coaxed. "Because there's only one way to get it."

"I'll be f-fine," he hissed through his teeth. "G-Give me time."

Seemed cruel to leave him like that, but she wasn't going to give him an easy out again. "Alright then, but I mean it. You better not finish without one or the other. I'll be watching you."

"Of c-course," he muttered.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Girls don't want boyfriends, they want shy subs that can magically shave their legs. (It's me. I'm girls.)
> 
> Would you believe I actually consulted a height chart for this.
> 
> I like how I'm basically doing NaNoWriMo but I started in late October and the novel in question is just id-poking sometimes-porn. I succeed only when I'm not trying, lol.


	12. A Bad Feeling

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Been ill (not coronavirus! food poisoning. much better, obviously.) So, yeah, my productivity tanked. Hopefully my quality didn't.
> 
> Added the last of the tags I think I'll need for the rest of this. Added chapter titles too.
> 
> There is some extremely non-consensual groping happening in here. Don't want my lax tagging to spring anything on anyone that isn't prepared for it. (Shouldn't be a problem after this point though!)

The feast was held in a massive plaza on the inside edge of the city, just off the road to the Royal Houses. Raum had seen it the day before, completely empty; he found himself impressed with the speed at which it had been converted into a full fairground.

It had not been a matter of slapping some banners up and calling it a day. While the tables meant for dining looked to be from elsewhere, everything else appeared to have been assembled just for the occasion out of prefabricated parts. A stage at center, a number of market stalls arranged in some maze-like fashion over one quarter, a walled-off section he assumed housed warming ovens and anything else the feast's attendant cooks and servants might need, innumerable poles and trellises meant to hold decorations and lighting... Whatever Elgians lacked in technology, they more than made up for with efficiency and organization. Regardless of his current circumstances and the boorish nature of its people, 'a nation of female meatheads' didn't seem as accurate to him now as it had before.

A section of the north end had been cordoned off for the Queen, her ministers, her family, and those to be honored this night. It was delineated from the rest of the plaza by a large trellis-like structure composed of decorated wooden poles and strips of green and white cloth. Inside, a collection of fine furniture transported from the Royal Houses was scattered over a layer of brightly colored rugs.

He felt Lena's fingers comb through his hair. "Doin' alright?"

He hummed assent. Despite his shackles being locked together again, being led around by a chain attached to his collar, and her insistence on prettying him up with kohl before coming out... He was. More or less. He felt safe enough, at least—safer than he would have felt out there, among the city dwellers. Many were already well in their cups and starting fights among themselves.

The celebration had officially started several hours ago, just before sunset, with a ceremony for the returning heroes. He was delighted to find that, whatever their other flaws, Elgians didn't see much need for overwrought formality. Call for attention, short speech, distribution of leafy crowns and ceremonial garments, final call for cheers, _done_. Raum approved. He had suffered through enough obnoxious, tedious nonsense in Illvey to last him several lifetimes. If he no longer had to put up with such here in Elgia, that was a solid mark in the positives column.

The feast was still in full swing outside, but those inside had eaten their fill long ago. Formality and necessity taken care of, the women had proceeded to split apart and reform into loose groups to drink and talk as the night wore on.

The traitors largely kept to themselves at one end of the space, though they were sometimes called on by a minister, princess, or Oraela herself. Lena was content to stay on the other and receive similar visits. She currently sat in a loose semicircle with her mother and two of her sisters (Evil and Armored, in his mind); the other two (Eldest and Sullen) had already migrated to other groups.

He sat at the very end of this arrangement, just to the right of Lena's feet. He was pleased to find himself not only in a prime position for covert observation but far out of reach of anyone but her. It didn't stop Evil from giving him mischievous looks, but at least she would have to go through Lena to get to him again.

He was not the only man in attendance. Oraela herself had two, one seated at either side. Neither showed any outward signs of abuse or neglect. Their origins were unclear to him, though he thought one might possibly be an Elgian himself. (Was it possible they were so rare that only the Queen could have one?) He was further surprised to find both closer to her age than not. Surely she had her pick of the young and comely? Perhaps she was the sentimental type, or simply preferred older men anyway. Both had tossed him a few curious glances early in the evening, but made no attempt to communicate. (Were they even allowed to? He had no idea.)

Evil also had one, a young dark-haired man he assumed to be of Vyssian origin. His ridiculous double take at first sight of Raum had not endeared the man to him. The wink and grin that followed were also incredibly irritating. Like Raum and Oraela's pets, he was decorated in expensive jewelry and fine cloth; unlike the three of them, he appeared to be entirely comfortable in his own skin. He happily lounged at Evil's feet, completely at ease.

Neither the rest of Lena's sisters nor the traitors had brought one along, but that didn't mean they didn't exist. He assumed the traitors simply did not have any of their property at hand out here in the capital city. It seemed neither had claimed anyone in the attack on Illvey, either. He wondered if he was the only one to be taken as such.

Lena continued to pet him, her strokes becoming clumsy and absent-minded over time. He surreptitiously glanced at her face. All of her attention was focused on the traitors across the way, her bottom lip between her teeth.

Clearly, she had taken his advice to watch them a little too seriously. He should have known she would, as the woman never did anything by half-measures. He needed to do something about it before she put them on guard. His options were rather limited by the restrictions on his sex; he would have to be creative.

He laid his chin on her thigh with a heavy sigh, feeling her start underneath him at the unexpected contact. Turning his head slightly so that she could see the full side of his face, he mouthed 'calm down' as clearly as he dared. After a moment of confusion, she smiled, mouthed back 'sorry', and continued petting him.

"So needy," chuckled Oraela, just loud enough for him to hear. "Even mine don't beg my attention while I am giving it to them."

"He's really very sweet," said Lena, all fondness.

He flushed at their accusations. Well, that was fine. His message got across, and that was what truly mattered. He took the opportunity to peer at the traitors himself.

Ulla seemed to be about the same age as Oraela, if not older. The surly way she sat as she listened to Eldest talk suggested she would much rather punch her in the face. He was amazed the Queen put up with such insolence towards her daughters. Then again, Donte's contact had called her a 'ringmaster' and these warlords her 'rampaging animals'; perhaps it was just an unavoidable part of the act. Indeed, the animal emblazoned across her banner, the boar, suited her spiteful and greedy nature well. During the feasting, she had repeatedly snatched prime cuts of meat out of the hands of others only to toss them on the floor after taking one bite. He further disliked the way she looked at him and the other men present, as if they were also meat to be sampled and disposed of.

He guessed Tanel to be of similar age, her black hair turning gray about her crown. She had remained near-silent throughout the feast, offering no more than a single word in affirmation or negation when prompted. Hers was not the sulky silence of Lena's sister, but that of someone carefully observing events and making decisions. He didn't dare look at her too long, not even out of the corner of his eye. He had the distinct impression she was watching everyone else in the same way he watched her.

He now understood why Lena feared her so. She made him think of the Fae: cold, calculating... Bloodless. The only difference he could see was that Tanel did not feel the need to pretend to be anything else. Likely, she had enough power in Elgia that she didn't have to.

He felt Lena's thigh tense a second before she exploded into a string of irritated Elgian at her obnoxious sisters, who burst into peals of laughter in response.

He closed his eyes before he was seen rolling them. When he had asked her to calm down earlier, he didn't mean for her to _stop paying attention entirely_. Then again, he was well aware of how well Armored and Evil could get under one's skin. Very well aware.

Reopening them, he searched for his last person of interest. He found her sulking among a gathering of official-looking women, her attention only half captured by their conversation.

There was something about Sullen that made him uneasy. She did not have Tanel's calculating nature or Ulla's brutishness, yet there was something unsettling about her. Something... Unstable.

Tonight she was, for lack of a better word, _twitchy_. What made her so he couldn't say, but he got the distinct impression of a woman fearfully waiting for the other shoe to drop. On top of this, she was no longer just sullen but angry with the activities around her, as if she couldn't believe she was to be bothered with them. Her shortness with Lena had become active hostility, and she was even snappish with her other sisters. She had enough sense not to direct such towards her mother, though a few apparent snipes towards her sisters earned her heated rebukes from Oraela. Put plainly, the woman was determined to have a bad time and ruin everyone else's as well.

She glanced at the traitors again, as she had done periodically since the dining tables had been hauled away. It seemed to him she desperately wanted to go over there and talk to them, but not while there were so many others vying for their attention. That alone warranted close observation.

Though... Perhaps it was only spite that made him feel that way. The woman clearly did not care for him. He had guessed as much from her behavior earlier today, but the events of the night had made her sheer dislike crystal clear. Not only did she glare at him rather frequently, but she had thrown an absolute fit earlier when Lena had fed him something off her plate—even as her mother spoiled her own pets in a similar fashion.

What exactly was her problem with him? Was it simply that he was Lena's, and she did not like Lena? The most likely explanation, certainly. He still felt her ire was a little over the top. He wasn't anything worth having, true, but he wasn't all that badly behaved, either.

Lena's agitation with her sisters grew as the alcohol continued to flow. He raised his head and moved slightly away before she harmed him on accident. He tried to remember if he had ever seen her unable to handle her drink. Nothing came to mind, but it was probably better to stay out of the way anyway.

Oraela frowned in their direction. After a moment, she rose from her seat and moved to another group, her men following in her wake. Understandable. Matters of state and warfare were one thing, sibling rivalry was another.

Yawning, he took another indirect look at the traitors. Sullen was there now, standing just before Tanel. He stilled, all senses pointed in their direction. There was no way for him to understand their conversation, but Elgian body language wasn't all that different from what he already knew.

She talked hurriedly, quietly, sometimes glancing around to be sure no one was watching or listening too closely. (Lena's lack of skill in surveillance might run in the family, he mused.) Her gestures were strange—strangled, as if she was trying to get a great amount of feeling across without drawing too much attention to herself.

Neither traitor appeared too impressed by this. Indeed, Ulla had taken to openly picking her nose in spite. This served only to aggravate Sullen further, and she became aggressive until Tanel finally answered her, short and sharp. After a moment's shock, her manner became pleading, almost pathetic; he saw the barest hint of disgust come over Tanel's face.

He glanced towards Oraela, wondering if she was aware of how chummy her offspring was getting with her enemies, but she was too engrossed in whatever Eldest was telling her to notice. The bickering overhead confirmed that none of the other sisters were paying attention, either.

He brought his gaze back to the traitors just as Sullen pushed something into Tanel's hands, some scrap of paper or cloth. The woman made as if to give it back, only to be distracted by whatever it was. She immediately leaned over to her accomplice and began whispering furiously.

That... Was worrying. On several levels. Ten levels. Tens of levels.

He leaned against Lena's leg, tapping his fingers to his lips, but she was too involved with whatever stupid argument they were having to pay him any mind. He laid his chin on her thigh again, but that didn't help either. She absently laid her hand on his head.

So much for being 'well-behaved.' Desperate times called for desperate measures. He would deal with the fallout as it came.

He shook her hand off and bit it.

"Ea—Ow!!" she yelped, grabbing her injured hand with the other. Her irritation with her sisters evaporated instantaneously, replaced with utter bewilderment. " _Raum_!"

He rapidly flicked his eyes over towards the traitors, hoping she wasn't too drunk to take the hint. He was pleased when she immediately looked that way, but the feeling was short-lived. The laugh Armored let loose was so loud it drew attention from every quarter, including from Lena herself.

" _S'not funny!_ " she hissed in Illvan, then, realizing what she had done, repeated it in Elgian. This had no effect on Armored, but it did prompt Evil to join her in ridiculous laughter.

A sharp string of Elgian overhead made him flinch and look up. During his attempts to get Lena's attention, Sullen had wandered over to join them. She glared at him in absolute fury. He immediately looked back down. _I have made a very grave miscalculation._

Lena did not take well to this. Whatever Sullen had said, it was at least as critical of her as it was of him. She answered in a similar tone, hand curled protectively in his hair. He felt a small rush of relief: she might be annoyed with him, but not enough to let anyone harm him.

Armored's giggles became weaker, allowing her enough breath to mutter something or other while waving dismissively.

This did not make Sullen any happier. Her tone became even more venomous, and based on the reactions of Armored and Evil, harsh words were directed at them as well.

Armored shot up from her seat in a way that Raum knew to be a precursor to more trouble than was strictly necessary.

Fortunately, it seemed Oraela had also been attracted by the commotion. She walked into the middle of the mess, shouting. He was mildly afraid she might learn what the inciting incident had been, but her impatience spared him; Sullen's attempts to direct her attention to him were for naught. Mother Was Tired, and it was time for her rambunctious children to Knock It Off.

He took a quick glance about as the storm raged overhead. Tanel watched the proceedings with detached interest. Ulla was gone.

He dearly hoped that didn't mean anything.

As his gaze swept over the rest, he noticed Evil's man grinning and giving him a thumbs up. Oraela's were more astonished than anything, though one grimaced at him in sympathy.

Oraela finished her lecture, and the silence overhead told him whatever her decision was, it was final. Sullen huffed out an angry sigh, turned around on her heel and left. The remaining children muttered a little, chastened.

The Queen, satisfied with this outcome, settled back into the seat she had vacated earlier. She gave him a decidedly stern look, but said nothing more. She did know what he had done, then. Perhaps her leniency with Lena was transferred to him as well? Still, he should be careful not to push it in the future. He hung his head, hoping his penitence was clear.

As the sisters muttered among themselves, he felt Lena lightly pull at his hair. "What on earth got into you just now? Tell me."

He didn't think it would be wise to make a big deal about Oraela's daughter directly in front of her. He raised his eyes to hers, finding them full of worry. "I apologize. I... I had my reasons."

She looked doubtful. "Reasons f'r biting me?"

"To draw your attention," he mumbled, again flicking his eyes in the direction of the traitors.

She looked again, this time uninterrupted. She frowned. "Oh."

"Not only that," he whispered, "But... Let me tell you later."

Armored interrupted them suddenly, now standing mostly upright and attempting to pull Lena out of her chair. They conversed in Elgian, Armored becoming more insistent over time. It was only when Lena sighed and answered in the affirmative that she was let go.

She turned her attention back to him. "They wanna go have a lookit the stalls. I kinda wanna too—Oh, don't make that face."

He didn't bother to change his expression this time. He had already had an encounter with a drunk Elgian he didn't care to repeat, and there were far too many out and about right now.

"S'alright. Rael n' Maija'll be around too, no one's gonna do anything with that many of us around. 'Sides, Lukos likes the attention. Probably take it all for himself."

Lukos must be the Vyssian Raum had misgivings about. He glanced in the man's direction. He apparently didn't understand Illvan, as he had no reaction to this.

She rose unsteadily, taking hold of the chain dangling from his neck. "Come on," she coaxed.

He had no choice in the matter, then. Very well. He rose, but made sure his sigh sounded especially tortured as he did so.

* * *

He had the absolutely hideous feeling that she was showing him off.

It was hard to describe how. The way she led him about by the chain, sometimes wrapped her arm about his waist, stroked along his back and sides... If he didn't know better, she was inviting people to look at her and her prize.

Worse still, they did. Again and again, he noticed women staring at him appraisingly: some old, some young... Most very, very drunk. He tried not to squirm under their scrutiny, but failed more often than not. To his continued horror, they seemed to find this even more interesting.

At least she had been correct in her assessment of the risk. As rambunctious as the assembled people were, it seemed no one was willing to overstep the boundaries of three princesses at once, especially with one staring daggers at anyone that got too close. He still wasn't able to relax completely, but he didn't feel as paranoid, either.

Further, it seemed Lukos truly did enjoy the attention given to him. Catcalls only elicited smiles or sometimes provocative poses. Things that would make Raum jump out of his skin only made him purr and stretch languidly, as a cat under welcome stroking. Unlike Lena, Evil did not feel the need to guard him. Her only response to any of this was a knowing smile and a hand on her hip.

He seemed to find Raum's more reserved nature hilarious, and delighted in irritating him by drawing whatever sexually-charged attention over to him as well. This was usually done by getting touchy-feely with him for the sake of any observing parties' titillation, or simply dragging him into the circle of attention.

Lena did not react to this as he had hoped. It seemed she did not deem the man a threat; she only shook her head as an exasperated adult does at feuding children.

It was only when Raum had finally had enough and resorted to similar childishness (a very hard pinch on the nose) that he finally eased off, still laughing.

He felt her wrap her arm about his waist and rest her other hand over his stomach. When he looked down, she was smiling up at him. "Not so bad, right?"

He nodded, somewhat grudgingly. He had not been harassed outside Lukos's antics, other than the blatant staring. He would probably never get used to it, but it was acceptable for now.

"Good," she said, letting him go. "Think we're near the end now, lotta empty stalls up this way. Hang on a bit longer, 'kay?"

He sighed.

"Just a little longer?" she coaxed. "You've been so good t'night."

He rubbed his chin in thought—he was not hiding his face at that, even if it seemed like it. He nodded again.

She grinned at him again. "Stay close, now. Don't disappear on me." She turned again to her sisters.

He suddenly remembered Ulla's own disappearance earlier. Was it possible she just... Got bored? Left to do what they were doing? Figuring no one about would be sober enough to notice and get angry with him, he gazed out over the crowd. No sign of Ulla's shock of snow-white hair. Wherever she had gone, it wasn't here.

His attention was suddenly jerked back to his companions by Lena's outraged squawking; he looked back just in time to see Armored dash away with the ceremonial cloth that had been draped over Lena's shoulders all night. Evil merrily skipped after, and Lukos trailed leisurely along in their wake.

"RAEL!" Lena shouted after them. She stamped her foot hard enough to set her braided crown of leaves askew.

Armored—or Rael, he now knew—only laughed and twirled the cloth around her hand in the distance. Evil—Maija, then—cackled madly.

She growled, loud and frustrated. She whirled around to look at him, hesitant but still fuming.

Ridiculous as it was, he supposed there was no harm. So long as he remained here, just out of sight, he was likely safe. He sighed. "If you must. I will stay here."

She glanced back at her jeering sisters, then back to him. "I... Alright. Don't go nowhere, I'll be right back!"

_Where am I going to go?_ he thought, watching her take off after them. He was impressed with how well she managed to run in her state. Her sisters were, too, if their sudden surprise and dash into the crowd were any indication. Perhaps she was handling her drink better than her slurred speech suggested.

Once they had moved far enough in to be untraceable, he slipped behind the solid wall of the stall's back end, eager for some quiet time to think.

Somehow, he felt his back slam against the planks of the backdrop before he registered the hand at his throat.

Ah. Here was Ulla.

She peered into his eyes, grinning lopsidedly. Her own were bloodshot and glassy, somehow both manic with interest and heavy-lidded with intoxication. "Bright eyes, easy to see. You look too much."

Her grip was astounding. He found that he could not break it, not even with both hands. His attempts to pull her arm away were similarly pathetic; the corded muscle there made it obvious why. Not for the first time, he regretted his life-long unwillingness to lift anything heavier than a book.

She pulled back her hand just enough to slam him back into the wall, and the back of his head exploded in pain. He felt her lean into her hold around his neck, neatly cutting off his airflow.

What a pathetic way to die. A shame Lena would have to see his corpse when she came back. He doubted she would take it well.

Just as he thought he might black out, she pulled back enough to let him breathe. The reek of alcohol threatened to suffocate him anyway. He gulped in air and continued trying to pry her off, hopeless as it was.

To his horror, he felt her hand slide up his stomach and over his ribs. "Thin... Not good, but not bad." She pinched a nipple, causing him to squeak. "Pretty."

A chill ran down his spine. There had always been the background threat of assault, but... He hadn't thought... Lena said she would protect him, didn't she?

He felt her grope around his chest. "Pretty, but flat. Need muscle."

His skin was threatening to crawl off his body at her touch. "L-Let go—"

She leaned into her hand again, just enough to threaten. "Men do not talk."

How was a man supposed to defend himself from this kind of thing if he couldn't even... But then, perhaps that was by design. He shivered, suddenly cold all over.

He felt her hook a finger over his belt and pull it away as she peered down into the gap between. Before he could fully process that, she tsked and let go. "Too dark." The mild reprieve was shattered when she reached underneath to grope around. He winced as her rough hands brushed over his flaccid member, jolted when she grabbed his testicles. She grunted approval. "Not bad."

He let out an involuntary wheeze, and attempted to push her hands away with his own. She merely grabbed the short length of chain between his shackles and pinned them back at his chest. "Do not move." She immediately let go and resumed her exploration, now roughly prodding and squeezing his buttocks. "Ah, good."

A disconnected part of him marveled at the difference between her touch and Lena's. There was no comfort here, no warmth or tenderness. He felt like livestock being examined at a fair, or something even less. He might have found Lena's fascination with his body overwhelming at times, but this was something else altogether. Something hateful and chilling.

"I-I belong to Lena!" he cried, again trying to pull her hand from his throat. "I-I'm h-hers, l-let m-me go—"

She suddenly stopped, as he had hoped, but her laugh dashed any hopes of his being left alone. "Today, yes. Soon, no."

Soon? Was—Is that what that back there was about, something happening soon? Is that why she left? He fought the urge to shrink away, forget what was happening. He needed to be here, be present, get answers. Whatever else, he needed answers. "W-What?"

Her grin was feral now. He felt her hand stroke his thigh. "Too late. Ships too late. Army too late."

Ships? Armies? Was she referring to those sent over the mainland? Weren't those their own? The way she spoke... Is that what Saen was afraid of, armies that were not their own? He closed his eyes, swallowing again. _Calm down, think._ Was it possible Oraela had used her personal airship to ask for assistance once informed of the extra letters? But the time... There wasn't nearly enough time for such a message to reach Dorothea, let alone for her to send ships or armies.

Ulla slammed him against the wall again, apparently just for the sadistic thrill of it. "We will take islands back from Oraela. Start with dregs, friends. What we take from north, we use later." She laughed again. "Too late for help from north. Will be done by next Thief Moon."

Among all the other shocks of the night, he found himself amazed she would share so much with him, even if she was so drunk. _Take advantage. Keep her talking. Just keep her talking._ "W-Why? W-What is the p-point—"

She sniffed at his neck, and his skin crawled at the feeling. "Oraela take islands with words. Not sword, not axe. Not a real win."

Yes, Ulla would be one of those warlords who objected to her unification of the isles and reviving of the throne. Too afraid to go against the majority that supported her, it seemed they had decided to do a precision strike on her and take the throne for themselves instead. Would it work? Did it matter?

Ulla continued to sniff at him, eyes narrowed. "Tanel will show her a good win. Crush her." Her eyes snapped wide and her grin came back. "Crush Lena."

He should not have been shocked to hear they would clean out the rest of the royal family as well, but he was. Or maybe it was just that they planned to kill Lena. "She hasn't done a-anything—"

"Born," she snarled. "Bad enough. Weak mother, weak children." She grinned again. " _Very_ weak children. Not loyal. Spoiled... Stupid."

Not loyal... She was referring to Sullen. Had he somehow stumbled into another coup by an aggrieved daughter? "W-Will her sister b-be the new Queen?"

She laughed. " _Tanel_ is Queen. Saen is fool."

A tool, in other words. A disposable one.

He felt a strange shift in the air, and Ulla's eyes became far more manic. "When Tanel wins? She will take you from Lena. To show her who wins. Then... Kill her."

All feeling left his body. It had not occurred to him that he might survive their takeover.

"Then _I_ take you," Her hand slipped back under his loincloth, much to his distress. "Train you better."

He tried to jerk away, but her arm was like a steel bar. His attempts to use his own to force the other one away went nowhere—instead, she became even more insistent, running her fingers behind his testicles and over somewhere he didn't even want to think about.

"No more look, talk, bite. You do what I want," she licked a stripe along his clavicle.

He wanted to retch. He felt like he was coated in cold and reeking slime, like he would never be clean again. The drunk that had copped a feel before was a distant and faded memory; the sheer revulsion and terror he felt now blotted it out completely. He made frantic new effort to pry her fingers away.

Angry with his continued struggling, she slammed him against the wall again. "Don't. Fight."

If she was talking, then she wasn't licking. "W-Why tell me this?"

She laughed again. "Word of man is nothing. Word of Lena is nothing, too. Oraela think she know. Will not listen to girl. Will not listen to you."

"I-If Lena—"

She leaned on his neck again, eyes narrowed. "Still talk too much. Need to train."

He didn't want to know what that meant any more than he wanted to let her lick him again. He felt his mind fraying at the edges. Without being able to goad her into speech, he was now out of ways to avoid... Whatever it is she planned to do to him.

Yet, for once in his life, luck was on his side: a distinctly familiar cackle sounded not too far away. Maija, and therefore Lena, was coming back this way.

Ulla must have recognized it too. She frowned.

He swallowed as well as he could. "L-Leave me. Y-You can't... C-Can't w-win if you're d-dead."

"We will win," she said, finally letting him go. "She will lose."

As he collapsed to his knees, his hands flew to his throat. He could feel the heat from her abuse there, just under his collar. It had been pushed upwards during the act... He could hide it if he had to. Yet, had she meant for Lena to know what she had done? He looked up to find her finger pointed in his face.

"Tell her. Will not help." She was still grinning as she turned away and walked along the abandoned stalls. If he had to guess, she was headed back to the roped-off area for the Queen and her guests.

He failed to rise to his feet. Suddenly he realized how badly he was trembling, how hard and fast his heart was beating.

He had lived through seven assassination attempts, both mundane and magical, and none had been half as terrifying as that. He had never felt so afraid. Small, weak, pathetic... Cold. He was so cold. He wrapped his arms around himself.

He could hear the women coming closer. He had to... He had to get up. He couldn't let anyone see him like this, like... No, but, he should tell her. She would...

Attack the woman in a drunken rage and get herself killed, probably. Favored by Oraela or not, he was sure terms like 'self defense' found use even out here, and it seemed Ulla would relish the chance to put her down.

He swallowed again, but found his mouth as dry as a desert. It would have to wait until she was sober enough to think rationally, though time was now very much running out... If it hadn't run out already.

Through great effort of will, he managed to stand just as they arrived. Lena was laughing, slightly out of breath. "Raum? Are you there? I got my stuff back!"

He managed to not stagger as he emerged from behind the stand. "I am here."

"Oh, good," she said, smiling brightly at him. "Was a little worried there."

The sigh he let out was not voluntary.

She tilted her head in question. "You alright?"

_No, not at all._ "I am fine. Lena, if it's not too much trouble, would you mind... Could we retire for the night. I feel rather ill."

She hummed in thought. "Yeah, probably should. All the good stalls are closed, n'all the mean drunks are out."

_I am aware._

"Come on, let's get you home."

* * *

The trip back was wonderfully uneventful. Those who were still in any condition to party were still at the plaza; those who weren't were passed out there and elsewhere.

He sat heavily down onto the bed. Resting his elbows on his knees, he covered his face with his hands. The trembling had settled down during the walk back, and so had his heart rate, just barely. As far as he could tell, Lena had not noticed. That was just as well. He wasn't sure if she was sober enough to be told yet.

He heard Lena removing her ceremonial crown and cloth in the other room. A thud and a yelp told him she hadn't quite done it right.

_Definitely not sober enough._

She hobbled into the bedroom, rubbing her knee. "That hurt."

"How did you hurt your leg taking something off your head?"

"Shut up," she muttered, sitting down just as heavily next to him. "I'm 'bit drunk."

"I can tell."

She scrunched up her nose at him. After a moment, her face softened to something more like contrition. "Sorry. Didn't think they'd have me keep goin' like that. Normally I'm better 'bout it."

"You need not apologize to me. You're the one that will have a hangover tomorrow." If she was so incapacitated, then maybe she wouldn't get any ideas about charging out to right any wrongs.

"Joke's on you," she laughed, "I don't get hangovers."

Ah. That was unfortunate.

She leaned against him. He was again amazed at how much heat the woman put out on the regular; it was like sitting before a roaring fire. Now, more than ever, he was grateful for it. For a while there he thought he would never be warm again.

She took his hands in hers and kissed his knuckles. Her lips were like embers to his clammy skin. "Sorry I was such an awful spy. M'no good at watchin', either."

He wondered if he should be feeling so calm here, in her bed, as she touched and laid kisses upon him. Perhaps the sheer difference in atmosphere was enough to separate the two events in his mind? He took a chance and leaned back into her. Not only did his skin not try to escape his body, but her heat was more than welcome. He basked in it. "It is fine. We will trade intelligence in the morning."

She nuzzled into his arm, sighing. "Y'really are sweet sometimes, y'know? Such a lovely man."

He looked away. "I-I wish you would stop saying such things."

She laughed and stroked along his back. He shivered; it seemed wherever she touched, the hideous chill of earlier melted away. "Can't. My Raum's too good."

"He isn't. He well and truly isn't."

"I'll make you unnerstand one day. Why I like you so much, I mean."

He sincerely doubted it, but fine. If she wanted to waste her breath that badly.

She giggled. "Hey... What did y'get upta while we were gone, n'yway? Y'looked like y'saw a ghost."

He cleared his throat and lied.

Tried to lie.

Failed to lie.

He coughed. "Er?"

She peered up at him. "S'wrong?"

_I thought I had seen one, in fact,_ he thought. What came out was nothing.

Her brows knitted. "Raum?"

There was something wrong, something preventing him from... He touched the collar. "Lena... Is there something on this that would prevent me from speaking?"

"Yep. Can't lie t'me. Don't wanna hafta drag the truth outta you again."

Of course.

She frowned. "Wait... Are you trying to lie?"

"No! I..." if not, then what was he doing? _Does it matter what I come up with? I can't lie!_

"Raum," she said, warningly.

Did lying by omission count? Could he do that? "I... Was not doing anything I shouldn't be, if that is what you are asking." Oh, good. "Waiting for you." That was true. He was very much waiting for her to come back. Why didn't matter.

She stared at him. "No... Yer usin' words t'get 'round it, I know what y'sound like when you do."

Ah.

"Why did you look so frightened?" she insisted.

"Lena, why don't we... Can we speak about this in the morning—"

She suddenly rose from the bed. He flinched, slamming his eyes shut. When nothing resembling punishment came, he opened them again, very cautiously.

She was staring at him. Not in anger, but in shock.

"Lena?" he chanced.

"What happened t'you?" she lightly touched the skin just below his collar. Before he could reply, she pushed it upwards, exposing what he was sure was the beginnings of an awful bruise.

He was rapidly running out of options. If he couldn't lie or simply not tell the full truth... "You must promise me, if I tell you, you will not do anything rash."

That was the wrong thing to say. Her eyes met his, and there was already fire there.

" _Promise me._ "

She bit her lip, lightly tracing over his injury with a trembling finger. "I... Promise. Now tell me."

He took one of her hands in his, just in case she might try to run out before he was finished. "I had an encounter with Ulla."

She went very still. Her pupils became pinpricks near instantaneously.

He gripped her harder. "She... She let me know what her plans were. Their plans. They... At some point Oraela called for reinforcements from Dorothea, and they know about it, it's... Spurred them into action. I assume the 'dregs' she refers to forces left behind when they joined you to take Illvey, and 'friends' are those allies from outside Elgia. I don't know what Thief—"

She cut him off. "She strangled you?"

He sighed, shivering at the memory. "She h-held me in place by the neck. Against the wall, behind the market stall."

"Held you in place..." He had never seen her so pale. "Did she do something t'you?"

There was no way to answer that.

She was suddenly on her knees before him, his hands now somehow in hers, golden eyes all concern. "Did she? Tell me."

He looked away. "It was nothing too..." he swallowed, angry at the tremor in his voice. "Some... Touching. Nothing more. It was... Harrowing, but.. I'm fine now."

She was silent for a while, lightly running her thumbs over his knuckles. When he eventually managed to meet her eyes again, she looked somehow more horrified than he.

"I'm fine," he insisted. "it was unpleasant, but I lived."

He watched her feelings go to war over her face. Anger, concern, horror, sadness. It was clear she was far too drunk to process everything properly, and soon his worst fears began to come true.

He recognized it: the heavy breathing, ragged and hot; the too-bright eyes, pupils fully contracted; the twitch at the corner of her mouth, as if there were fangs there that wanted to break through. That was the look she had gotten last time he made her angry. The lioness at hunt.

" _I'll tear her apart,_ " she growled, teeth bared. "I'll kill her!"

No! No, that was exactly what he did not want! He quickly grabbed her hands again. "Lena, please—"

She shot up from the floor. "I'll—I'll strangle _her_ , I'll—"

He pulled her arms towards him, prompting her to look into his eyes. "Lena, no! Don't give her a reason to—"

She yanked them from his grasp. "Going to give her something worse than a _reason_ ," she snarled, whirling around and half-stumbling out of the bedroom. He heard a metallic slide, like a sigh; it was then he suddenly remembered the long knife strapped to her hip.

He rushed after her, somehow managing to reach the door to the outside first. He slammed his back against it, raising his still-bound hands before him in a universal gesture of 'stop.' "Stay here. _I beg you_."

"I won't let it go," she hissed, knife at the ready. " _I won't let her get away with it!_ "

"It's not a question of—"

"Get out of the way."

"I won't!" he shouted, just loud enough to startle her. "Lena, _please_. Calm down, listen to me. You cannot go. If you go... If you go and she kills you, then... I am left alone."

She hesitated.

"A-Alone on Elgia with no allies to speak of, no..." he drew a shaky breath, finding it hard to continue. He sank to his knees, suddenly unable to carry the weight of the last few hours. He covered his face.

Her voice became a fraction softer. "I—"

"When she..." he began, voice muffled by his hands, "when she took h-hold of me, she said... They w-would murder you, and I would b-become—" he cut off with a choke. Even speaking it made him ill.

When she did not interrupt, he continued, barely. "...B-Become h-hers. That she would t-train me. Harm me. If you go now, and she kills you... I-I think I w-would find myself in her h-hands much sooner."

She was silent again, long enough for him to pull himself back together, mostly. He removed his hands from his face to find her still showing every indication of rage, yet utterly still. Her eyes were locked on him, still contracted, but soft at the edges.

"I-If you're that desperate to do something to someone, then... Stay."

Anger was briefly displaced by horror again. "No, I'd never hurt—"

"Not to hurt me," he bit out. "Stay and... K-Keep me warm. I..." He wrapped his arms around himself. "Everywhere she touched me, I..."

Finally, slowly, she began to lower the knife. Her eyes were still wild and distant, but her expression had begun to shift back into something softer, more human. Concern.

She sank down before him, letting the knife rest on the floor beside her. She reached out and laid a hand on his knee. Her voice was still rough around the edges, but he could tell she was trying very hard to soften it. "Hey..."

After a moment, he took it and pressed her palm against his chest. "B-Besides. Surely you would rather stay and h-have me?"

She let out a soft, disbelieving laugh. "Are you tryin' to seduce me into stayin'?"

He dropped her hand and coughed, face now aflame. That was exactly what he had been doing, though he only just realized it after she said so. "I, er."

He felt her fingers curl over his heart; her other hand slid along his jaw to cup his face. He leaned into it.

She smiled gently, though he still had the impression of fangs at the corners. "Dunno if that's a good idea. Y've been through a lot t'night, n'... M'kinda wilded up now, d'wanna hurt ya. Think we both oughta sleep it off?"

They should. A very wise suggestion, all told; they could both calm down and speak tomorrow morning, and he could continue to bask in her warmth. Yet... It wasn't enough. Sleeping next to her would chase the chill away, yes, but not completely. He needed more. He needed more...

He turned his face into her palm, softly kissing the center. "Let me feel your touch instead."

"Raum..."

"Burn it away," he sighed. "I don't want to feel her hands on me anymore."

"Careful," she warned. "dunno how nice I can be."

"Burn it away," he insisted, gazing into her eyes. The glinting gold in them had lost all sharpness, and now glowed warm and molten. "please."

She blew out a long and shaky breath. "Alright, but... You asked for it."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Is it too confusing to have Raum use his reductive-to-the-point-of-insult names for the sisters? I regret cutting descriptive stuff out of chapter 9 now.
> 
> When you realize the chapter title is a hideous pun even though that isn't what you were going for: ...
> 
> Next stop's porntown. Let's see if haugr can thread the needle between loving 'make me feel safe and loved' sex and rough 'I am horny as hell and half out of my mind on berserker rage' sex.


	13. Want

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> welcome to p o r n t o w n

She rose, her hand slipping from his as she did so. "C'mon, then."

It was hard not to resent the stillness in her voice. His breathing alone was already shaky. He allowed her to help him up. "I—"

For the second time that night, he found himself slammed up against a hard surface. The warmth from earlier promptly fled, and he was pushing her away before he could make an conscious effort to do so. "Wait! No, _wait_!"

She froze, eyes wide and watchful.

"N-Not... Not at the wall. Please."

"Oh. Right, er... Right. Alright." She backed away, taking her heat with her.

His protest that he hadn't wanted her to stop completely was cut short when she suddenly ducked below his vision. A whirl of scenery later, his feet were completely off the floor.

"Right," she said, sounding very brisk for a woman carrying a much taller man over her shoulder, "bedroom."

He watched the entryway recede in stunned silence. He knew she was quite strong for her size, but this—this was—was this even possible? "Lena?!" he barked, high and strangled.

"S'alright, s'alright," came the nonchalant reply. "I got you."

That was the problem!

Some steps later and the world rushed by again as he was unceremoniously dumped onto the bed, his lower legs hanging over the foot. He sat up and stared at her, utterly dumbfounded.

She rolled her shoulders. "Little heavier than I expected, but not too bad." A grin broke out over her face. "Whatya all red for?"

Was he? His face was rather warm. "I was—It was—do have a care and don't injure yourself!"

"Take more'n that," she laughed.

A moment later, she leaned over, her hands flat on the bed at either side of his thighs. Her expression was completely serious. "Now... Where did she touch you?"

The chill threatened to race over his spine again. Listing them would require remembering the ordeal. "Th... The list of places she did not would be shorter."

She hmmed, eyes rolling heavenward in thought.

He would try again. "It—"

"Right," she growled, pushing him back flat onto the bed. "Guess I'll just touch everywhere, then."

His initial surprise at this was suddenly interrupted by further shock as she practically tore his loincloth off with a clamor of jingling chains. He gasped and scrambled backwards onto the bed, bound hands clasped to his chest.

She paused, the garment still dangling from her hand. She looked almost as startled as he felt. "I... Uh. Sorry."

Suddenly realizing how very maidenly his pose was, he let his hands drop to his lap. For further self-assurance, he pulled his legs further in, covering his nakedness. "I-It is quite alright."

With an apologetic smile, she let it fall to the floor. She then immediately began to strip down to a similar state, quick and businesslike. He could tell she had no thought of exciting him, only finishing the job at hand.

Again he was reminded of a mountain lion, svelte and powerful; the coppery glint at the edges of her hair and bronze cast of her skin gave her a further unearthly quality. Not just a lioness, but a goddess of the hunt.

Once more he wondered why such a beautiful woman would bother with the hideous and hateful him. It wasn't as if she had no willing suitors at court! The pool had doubled every year, by his count. She had also denied multiple gifts of (presumably younger and handsomer) men from her entire family. All for the sake of an obsession with _him_.

There was no sense in it. None.

Slowly, she crawled onto the bed and over him, pulling his legs out straight as she did so. Settling on top of his thighs, she ran her hands over his body. Her gaze was intense... Hungry. "Told you bein' gentle was gonna be hard."

He swallowed. That look always preceded a lot of... A lot. He looked away, still unsure how he was meant to respond to such.

He felt her hands halt before pulling away completely. "If you really don't want to..."

"I-It is fine. I know you would not harm me," he whispered quickly. When her hands still didn't return to him, he chanced a look at her face. The mix of concern and hunger there made his heart ache. He looked away again, face hot.

He felt her hands cradle his jaw as she turned his head to face her. Her thumbs gently stroked along his cheeks. "Y'sure?"

The tension in his neck and back melted away, his body becoming warm and pliant. He sighed deeply. That was the feeling he had been chasing since bringing this up. "I am."

"Alright then," she said, half warningly. "here we go."

She came forward, laying over him, her hands slipping around the back of his head and threading into his hair. She gripped him tightly, painfully; he was trapped there, unable to escape her lips as they crashed into his. His instinctual attempt to wrap his arms around her went nowhere, as his still-shackled hands were now trapped between them.

He felt her giggle into his mouth; his confusion lasted only as long as it took her to grind against his rapidly hardening member. He resurfaced just long enough to draw in a ragged breath, only to have her laugh again and draw him right back in.

An indeterminate length of time later, a sharp pain in his lower lip jerked him back to reality. His eyes snapped open to find her unlatching her teeth from his lip, golden gaze glinting like a knife in the dark.

"Revenge for earlier," she growled, driving her tongue back into his mouth before he could respond. Not that he had planned to. He was more than happy to sink back into warm, dark delirium.

At some point, both of her hands left his hair and came to wander over his body. He could tell she was trying her best to be gentle, though she failed spectacularly. A caress along his side turned into nails scraping across his skin; a soft squeeze of his buttocks became a bruising grab. Even her kiss became harder and more unyielding with time, her canines sometimes snagging on his already abused lower lip.

He didn't care, not even when her fingers came dangerously close to wrapping around his neck. He knew she wasn't trying to hurt him, or abuse him. She wasn't 'training' him. She was taking him, bringing him under her control. He eagerly gave himself over.

She could have whatever she wanted, so long as she didn't let him go. Kept him to herself. Protected him.

Some time later—seconds, minutes, hours, he had no idea—he felt her pull away. A high whine escaped him before he could stop it. His attempt to chase after her lips with his own ended abruptly when she pushed him back down onto the bed. Annoyed, he opened his eyes to find her grinning down at him, wiping saliva from her mouth with the back of her other hand.

"Y'really are needy, aren'tcha?"

He opened his mouth to object, but there was no objection for him to make, not after that. He immediately closed it again. Reality was starting to intrude back in around the edges, and he was becoming horribly aware of how he had been acting for the last... However long it had been.

"Stay," she said, scooting back. She forced his legs apart and seated herself between them. He felt her fondle him down there, and again she tried her best to be gentle, mostly successfully this time. "Already so wet for me."

He covered his eyes with trembling hands. _Please don't say things like that_ , he thought. Vocally, he made it as far as 'please.'

"Raum."

He pulled his hands down slightly, peering through his fingers.

She peered up at him through her lashes, golden-tipped in the lamplight. "She touched you here?"

He was afraid the memory would replay for him again, but found it vague and misty compared to the sharpness of her stare. Unable to say anything in response, he nodded.

One hand lightly stroking his shaft, she let the other venture underneath, fingers brushing along the perineum. At one point, he felt her press her fingers into it, and the jolt that sent through him had him suddenly sit up, hands clapped over his mouth. He bit into his own finger in an attempt to stop the noise that came out anyway.

"Here too?" she purred, massaging her fingers into that same place.

He knew of the anatomy there that would make such a thing possible, but had never cared to experiment on himself. In truth, the near entirety of his knowledge regarding the sexual functions of the human body was strictly academic in nature. How pathetic that she knew how to better play his body than he did.

"Raum?" she insisted, pushing deeper.

"Mmph!" he responded, eloquently. He screwed his eyes shut and nodded.

She tsked as she continued to stroke him, both his shaft and underneath. "M'gonna kill her."

She was going to kill _him_ if she didn't stop that. He forced his hand down before he bit his finger clean off. When he opened his eyes again, he was just in time to see and feel her kiss the very tip of his cock.

Again her gaze met his, and she grinned another wildcat grin. She drew back, licking her lips thoughtfully.

If she commented on his taste again he would self immolate. Not by magic, just in sheer embarrassment.

She didn't. Instead, her expression sobered. He felt her finger trace over that last place, very gently. "Even here?"

Probably that should have done it for him, but he remained steadfastly not on fire. Was it supposed to feel like that? It was very different from earlier. He let out a ragged puff of breath and nodded.

Her brows drew down by the smallest degree. "Did she enter..?"

He shook his head. No, no she hadn't. Why would she...

_Did you know there's a place in here that can drive a man wild?_

_I've seen men lose their minds over it._

Oh.

He felt her stroke him there, a little harder this time. A shiver of pleasure worked itself up through his throat, ultimately manifesting into a soft 'ah' that made her grin from ear to ear.

She stared at him a moment more, humming in thought. Suddenly taking her hands away, she leaned over to kiss him on the mouth. "Stay. I'll be right back."

He forced himself not to follow her mouth this time. It was probably the greatest feat of self-control he had ever performed, including all those times he didn't strangle the King to death.

He watched her slide off the bed and walk over to a low chest in the corner, bending over to rummage inside. He swallowed at the sight. Apparently, she had enjoyed all of that at least as much as he had. He dropped his gaze immediately. When that seemed insufficient, he lay back on the bed, eyes fixed on the ceiling.

He knew what she was about over there, what her plans were when she came back. He wasn't nearly as afraid or disgusted as he thought he should be. The feel of her there just a moment ago... He trembled with something undefined.

He started at her weight sinking into the bedding between his legs. Before he could sit up again, she took hold of his left leg and draped it over her shoulder. He was forced to be satisfied with being propped up on his elbows.

She kissed his knee, again peering up at him through her eyelashes. "D'you trust me?"

He did. He really did. More than anyone else he had ever met.

A soft bite on his inner thigh. Her eyes were sharp again. "Say it."

He wasn't sure that he could, or even what exactly 'it' was.

"Raum. _Say it._ "

The familiarity of their position was not lost on him. He took a wild guess. "I'm y-yours?"

Her eyebrows briefly jumped upwards. Apparently, that hadn't been the right answer. When a slow smile spread over her face, feral yet joyful, he realized it didn't matter.

He felt her finger against his hole again, the pressure even greater this time. He barely stifled a squeak of surprise at the sensation—it was covered in something cold and viscous.

"It's alright. It'll warm up n' feel real good."

She continued to rub at his entrance, sometimes directly over, sometimes in lazy circles around it. It wasn't just warm but hot there now, and every time she grazed over the opening a strange little noise came from the back of his throat, totally unbidden.

Her attention flicked back and forth from her work and his face. "My lovely Raum."

He shook his head, eyes screwed shut. _Don't start._

She forced his leg up higher, spreading him wider; her finger pressed in harder, almost breaching the entrance. She laid another kiss on his knee as her unoccupied hand caressed his hip. "He hisses n' snaps like anythin', but he's so sweet inside."

Letting himself fall back flat onto the bed, he covered his face again. He wouldn't give her the satisfaction of seeing him react to such nonsense.

She laughed. "N'so shy! So shy... So cute."

Just as he opened his mouth to complain, he felt the tip of her finger push inside. The light burn and sudden fullness were altogether too much to take at once, and the shuddering "ahhhhhh?" he let out had him moving his hands down over his mouth to cut it off.

"Now _that_ was a cute noise," she purred, sinking her finger in further. "A cute noise from m'cute Raum."

She had found a new favorite game: give him an entirely unearned compliment, use his distraction to further her intrusion, enjoy whatever strangled noise he made in response, repeat. To her apparent delight, as the burn started to lessen and the feeling of fullness dominate, his gasps changed to muffled moans. The addition of a second finger brought the burn back briefly, and his moans increased in frequency and volume. The intensity and pace of the game picked up after that, leaving him breathless.

After what seemed like ages, he felt her fingers bottom out, the knuckles of her hand brushing against his rim. Another kiss was laid on his inner thigh. "There now, S'all in."

He let out a few stuttered breaths, working up the wherewithal to speak. "I-Is that... Is that all?"

"No," she said, and he could hear the wicked grin around it. "Now we're at the fun part."

He felt her curl her fingers inside, pushing against his inner wall. The sensation traveled up through his pelvis and through his very cock. Unable to cover his mouth in time, his gasp pierced the night like a crack of gunfire.

"Oh, wow, I got lucky. Lessee if I can find it again."

"W-Wai—" he breathed, but it was useless. She swiftly found his weakness again, and he was forced to clamp his mouth shut or moan outright.

She began to withdraw from him, fingers still curled inside. She ran across that sensitive spot as she did so, causing him to buck his hips. "Is it good?"

_Yes_ , but he wasn't about to say so.

She slowly pushed back in before doing it again. "It must be, the way you look right now."

Dear God, he did not want to think about the way he looked right now.

Time stretched again as she continued to manipulate him, thrusting in and out, curling her fingers against his insides, sometimes doing both at once. His cock was largely ignored, left to bob and drip uselessly as she tormented him. He wished she would touch it again, but knew not doing so was part of her game. Accordingly, he made no move to do so himself.

Eventually she spoke again, but by that time his ability to think was almost completely destroyed.

"I liked showin' you off today. Liked seein' m'all look, n'know they couldn't have you."

Ah, so he had been right earlier.

"But if they're gonna touch ya... Maybe I should keep you inside. Don't want you gettin' snatched from me."

No, he didn't want that either. He wanted to stay here, with her. Under her.

Something darker entered her voice. "I'll chain you back to the bed."

He should probably not want that as much as he did.

"Have my way with you ev'ry night."

He would do whatever she wanted.

"Never let you go."

Yes, never let him go.

Suddenly she did let go, slipping her fingers fully out of him at the same time. Once his initial shock wore off, the feeling of emptiness hitting him fully, he let out a whimper so pathetic that he almost felt shame again.

He felt another shift on the bed. He was so delirious with frustrated want that he didn't fully comprehend what was happening until he found himself seated on her lap, facing her, his legs on either side of her waist. She pulled his linked wrists over her head, and he instinctively wrapped his arms around her shoulders to keep from falling off.

She grinned up at him, wrapping her own arms about his torso. One slid back down his cleft, the other up his back to grab the chain hanging off his collar. "Let's do it this way now."

He felt her fingers reenter him, rather roughly. A truly whorish moan escaped his throat in response.

"S'what I like to hear," she purred into his chest. She pushed in further, harder; the bend of her finger rubbed close to that place. "Lemme hear you."

He did, mostly because he didn't have enough sense left to try and hide it.

He winced slightly at the familiar suck and pain of a hickey; when next he looked down, she was grinning up at him. "Can't get riddof that big mark, but I can cover you with more, hmm?"

He buried his face in her hair, panting shamefully. God, he would love nothing more.

True to her word, she set about covering his shoulders and chest with bites and hickeys as she continued to drive her fingers inside. Every little sting of pain served to drive him further down the path of madness. Whatever noises were coming out of his mouth now, he had no idea; Lena's continued giggles suggested he would be very ashamed of them later.

He whimpered. God, he was so close now. Desperate to find some friction, he thrust his hips against her stomach. His reward was a sudden hard pull on the collar's chain, enough to pull him away. He whimpered again at the loss of her heat.

"Didn't say you could do that," she breathed, eyes wild. "Behave."

"Please," he sobbed. He was so close.

She sighed, fond but exasperated. "I really do let you get away with too much."

"Please," he begged again.

"You asked for it," she growled.

She wrapped her arm around his middle and pulled him close, again burying her face in his chest, her teeth closing over one oversensitive nipple. Her rhythm became punishing, almost sadistic; he cried out as she pushed and twisted into him.

It was too much. The pressure of her skin against his cock, the continued assault of her fingers, the pull of her teeth—he couldn't take anymore. His vision whited out as he came. His back arched painfully as his arms wrapped tightly about her neck. The cry he let loose was so high and wild he would not have believed it was him if Lena hadn't whispered praise in his ear immediately afterward.

He was vaguely aware of her gently helping him lay back down onto the bed during the comedown. He garbled something out. What it was meant to be, even he had no idea.

"Shh, s'alright. Lie back a minute."

It wasn't as if he had any choice in the matter.

* * *

Now that was one fucked-out man.

He lie back on the bed, one arm thrown over his eyes, panting as if he had run the entire way here from Illvey. A thin sheen of sweat clung to his pale skin, making him gleam like the silver jewelry he still wore. She was sure if he opened his eyes they would have that adorably dazed look she had loved so much the first time she took him.

That went well. She had wondered how he would take it, given his reaction to the idea at the baths, but he had again surprised her with how weak he was to pleasure. Even when she had lost control at the end and gotten a little rough, he had taken it like a champ.

Absolutely perfect man. Well worth the wait.

...He might give her an earful later, though. Sometimes men really didn't want to admit they had a good time after that, for whatever reason.

She stretched her shoulders and flexed her aching right hand. The clash between her frustrated battle-rage and drunken state hadn't been as rough as she feared it might be. Her coordination was still less than great, and she still felt a little tipsy, but she had a slightly clearer head now. She wondered how that worked. She had seen recruits suddenly appear to sober up a bit after drunken shenanigans nearly injured or killed them. Same principle, maybe? Holy Mother knew how hard her heart had been beating during that.

He moved his arm, bringing his bound hands back over his chest. The kohl she put on him earlier ran in streaks from the corners of his eyes. She grinned at the sight. It was lovely when it was first put on, but the real treat was seeing it smeared around later.

She inspected the pearly trail left over her stomach. "Again... I should make y'clean this up."

The idea of Raum, delirious with post-orgasmic bliss, cleaning her off with a cute pink tongue as she used the collar chain to keep him at it was... Really, really good, She glanced at his prone form. Maybe one day when he wasn't quite so tired out.

(The only thing better than having her way with him was coming up with new ideas about how to have her way with him. Maybe she should be writing these things down somewhere? Not like he could read the list, right?)

She was suddenly hyperaware of the slickness between her legs. She had thought she would have him as her 'celebration dinner' at the baths, after all. She had taken the Sybella seed yesterday, that should do her for a week. A little bit of resin applied down there should keep any threat of pregnancy fully at bay.

She took another look at him. Amazingly, he hadn't dropped off to sleep yet, instead muttering something under his breath as he stared at the ceiling. Based on the words 'god' and 'madness,' she guessed his mind was starting to come back alive.

It was possible.

Rael had brought up a jug of water she meant to take along with her to training later, and Lena still had some soap left over from the baths. Her luck had bested her lack of preparations yet again.

Right, clean up, Sybella, cock. She had her to-do list for the rest of the night. She turned to go into the other room.

"W-Where are you...?"

The soft, high tone of his voice made her smile. He was still a little dazed, then. "Stay. I'll be back."

She made quick work of the first two items on the list, all too eager to get to the third. She hoped he wouldn't drop off to sleep before she got back. With all he had been through tonight, she might actually let him.

Fortunately, that wasn't the case. He watched her as she climbed back onto the bed and straddled his thighs again. His gaze was dreamy, just as she hoped it would be. "Lena..?"

She smiled down at him. "Not done with you yet. Be good and let me."

"I-I'm not sure i-if—"

"Shh. Let me try."

His shoulders relaxed. "Good l-luck."

She'd take it, but she didn't need it. She knew enough about him now that bringing him back to hardness was a relatively simple task. Honestly, she had expected to work a lot harder at it than she did. She didn't even have to get her tongue involved this time.

She grinned at him over his stiff cock. "Ready?"

He mumbled something into the back of his hand, gaze averted. The pinkness of his cheeks was bracketed by the dark stripes of the ruined kohl.

She scooted forward to mount his hips. "Now... Try to make it last for me."

She guided him to her entrance and began to sink down onto him. It was a long way down, and she had been out of practice for some time, but she finally made it to the bottom. She sighed in delight as she settled flat against his pelvis. "Mmm... Good."

The 'hah' he let out in response told her he thought the same thing.

Experimentally, she clenched around him. The answering catch in his breath was quite cute. She leaned forward, placing her hands flat against his stomach. "Remember: make it last."

She began slowly, her strokes long and gentle. Part of it was to get used to the stretch inside again; the other, to be sure he didn't blow early.

It wasn't as painful as she had feared would be. Probably had a lot to do with her sopping wet state. Similarly, she saw no tell-tale signs of early orgasm from him. Feeling braver, she picked up the pace, finding a steady rhythm that promised a good time and a decently long ride. She closed her eyes, concentrating on the feeling between her legs.

When next she opened them, she found his eyes fixed where they were joined, half-lidded and dreamy. He muffled another gasp with the back of his hand.

No, she wanted to hear him this time, too. She halted mid stroke, her hand shooting forward to take hold of his forearm. She pulled his arms down, her hand skimming down to grab the short chain between his restraints. "No hiding. I want to hear you."

"Mmph," he replied, blinking lazily. She felt his arms go slack as he gave in.

She smiled at him. Now using her grip on the chain as a ground, she began anew, faster and harder, angling her hips so that his length slid against that one place on her inner wall.

She watched his face as he sank fully back into that dazed, blissed-out state he always got in when she played with him. Sweetly submissive, utterly defenseless. It made her mad with lust, made her want to do so much more, so much harder.

She swallowed, willing that dark and howling feeling down. He didn't need to be savaged right now, not like that. Next time, maybe. "Is it good?"

"S'good," he whispered. His breathing was shaky again. He swallowed. "Lena, s'good."

She felt a rush of adoration. He really was so very sweet inside, under all that bristle and snarl. Soft, vulnerable. It was what drove her to claim him for her own. She had always liked his pretty face, of course, but it was the man behind that cold and sneering mask that she had really come to want. Not just to have, but to protect. Though she hadn't been doing a very good job of that.

She really would make him understand someday. Somehow.

"L-Lena," he gasped. "C-Close. I'm cl..."

He had lasted much longer than she thought he would, honestly. Well, that was alright, since she was pretty close, too.

She dragged his hands to her mound. "Then here, help me finish."

He looked at her uncomprehendingly. Just as she thought she might have to spell it out—or even set his fingers to work herself—understanding sparked in his eyes, and she felt his long fingers quest inside, stroking along her folds.

"So clever," she purred. "You know where to touch, hmm?"

He did. She shivered as she felt his thumb swipe over her clit.

"Good," she sighed, licking her lips. "Just like that."

Sometimes she felt him buck against her. His thumb continued its assault on her clit, his other fingers lightly stroking along the groove underneath. Muddled by lust as he was, he was just as attentive now as he had been when she put his face between her legs.

She moaned loudly. The noise seemed to startle him at first, and he looked at her in wonder. Fortunately his shock didn't last long, and he got back to the very important business of getting her off.

She felt it, the electric tingle along her spine that said she was in store for a good time. She had just enough sense left to slam down on him a few more times before the thing hit her, full force, a rush of wild sensation from her core outward.

As she clenched over him a second time, she felt a twitch inside that signaled his own finish. She pressed down as hard as she could as he came inside her, wanting to keep every drop to herself.

As the last waves of pleasure rolled away, she became aware of his hands pressed against her stomach. "Lena? A-Are you—?"

She slid her own over them. "Shh, s'alright, just... Riding it out." She opened her eyes to find him looking even more wrecked than he had been earlier. Poor thing looked like he'd barely survived a savaging by a wild animal. Which he kind of had, she guessed.

She thought he might fall dead asleep in a minute. He'd earned it, really. "Inside. I-Inside you?"

He was rapidly softening in her. She bounced again while it was still possible. "That?"

His eyes opened wide as he huffed out a startled "hahhh?"

What a nice reaction. She idly wondered how he do with just a little too much stimulation. _Another idea for the list._

But not today. He was tired, she was tired. Time for bed. She leaned forward to give him a peck on the cheek. "Very good. Go on and sleep, hmm?"

He sighed softly, his eyes slowly closing as he did so. "Mmph. Y.. Yes."

She watched him as he sank into sleep. Her Raum.

Only hers.

* * *

_  
It was a beautiful day in the gardens, especially out here where the big fountain was. At least, Lena thought so. Clear and sunny, with the barest breeze from the north. Good weather for the first day of her yearly summer stay. Bit warm for Illvey, yeah, but she was used to much hotter anyway._

_So the sudden cold that washed over her as a smiling Louis clapped his hands over her own and chirped 'Raum was stabbed!'... It felt a bit odd._

_"Louis!" hissed Door._

_His smile disappeared immediately. "Oh. Er. It wasn't supposed to come out quite like that."_

_"I told you not to tell her right away," she continued, and Lena felt her gently take her arm. "Do not worry. It was two weeks ago. He is fine."_

_Now fully deflated, he hung his head. "Sorry. I kept thinking about how much I wasn't supposed to say it, and it kept bothering me, so I thought I should just say it so I wouldn't think about not saying it anymore."_

_If looks could kill, Door's would have reduced the poor boy to ash._

_That un-Door-like reaction was just absurd enough to jolt her from her sudden stupor, but not enough to take her heart back out of her throat. "Is he—Is he alright? What happ—"_

_Her friend's grip tightened slightly. "_ He is fine _, Lena. Please calm down. Louis did not tell you the full story."_

_She swallowed. Her heart remained out of place, but it was worth a try._

_"Yes, don't fret, Lena," said Louis, kindly. "It wasn't even the first time."_

_That put several more organs slightly out of place. "It wasn't_ what _?!"_

_Suddenly, none too gently, Door pulled her away to the side. If Lena had been in a clearer state of mind, she might have been impressed with the smaller woman's strength. "Ahem. He refers to an incident from long ago. Anne was not even born. Again, Raum is fine. It was a_ failed _assassination. Emphasis on failed. The assailant did not survive the attempt."_

_That didn't make it better! She frowned at the hem of Door's dress, her thoughts a jumble._

_"It should not surprise you to learn of such," she said, voice gentle but firm. "You know he is not beloved."_

_She did. Not a day went by up here without her overhearing wishes of death and dismemberment upon him from frightened and insulted nobles._

_Honestly, she thought that had all been nothing but talk. Illvans, on the whole, did not seem to be as proactive about their grudges as her own kind—only, as it turned out, they_ were _. They just preferred to have someone else do the dirty work, was the thing._

_She met Door's eyes, warmed by the genuine care she found there. She might not understand Lena's interest in the man, but she was always kind about it. "Do they know who sent the assassin?"_

_"No. Only that it is likely someone within the court."_

_Her chest ached. That meant, whoever they were, they were free to strike from the shadows again. Once more she was left trying to think of how to fight something she couldn't see._

_Louis popped up behind Door, his expression slightly more sober. "It's alright, Lena. He lived through it! Patched himself right up, too. Mostly."_

_She felt cold again. "Himself? Mostly?"_

_Door sighed irritably. "He has refused treatment by our doctors and healers and turned his skills on himself."_

_"Seems to be having a rough go of it, though," interjected Louis._

_Door patted her arm reassuringly. "He is only a little tired."_

_"Can't bring himself to loom and hiss lately," Louis said, a grin stretching across his face. "Just scuttles off to a quiet corner and glowers, like 'you better not do anything that would make me have to move.' Makes everyone twice as nervous. Even Father leaves him alone now. It's quite funny."_

_"The pain does seem to have put him in a bad temper lately," Door admitted._

_Pain... Poor Raum in pain. She hated it. She hated the idea. "Where is he?"_

_"_ Lena. _"_

_Her face burned. "I'm not going to do anything! I just want to know."_

_"Ah!" interrupted Louis, his gaze fixed somewhere in the distance. "Speak of the devil!"_

_She followed his line of sight. There, on a bench at the far end of the fountain square, just to the right of the wide lane leading to the palace, sat a bent dark shape that could only be Raum. Two guards stood nearby, their gold and white uniforms blazing brightly in the sun._

_"You would think the man would find a dark hole to retreat to, lick his wounds a bit, but no. He's always out here."_

_Just seeing him alive was enough to banish the cold again, and her heart finally slid back down into her chest._

_She looked to Door. The woman's expression was more than a little sour._

_Lena smiled her most winning smile._

_After a moment, she sighed. "Louis and I will be waiting in the gallery. Do not complain to me if he is short with you."_

_Delighted, she immediately turned on her heel and headed that way. Trying not to run, she settled on a brisk walk instead. The closer she got to the three figures, however, the stranger the scene became._

_The guards were elite types like Rana, not usually seen outside the royal apartments, let alone outside the palace. Their uniforms, once crisp and snowy white, were wilted ivory now; their helmets did little to shade them from the punishing sun, leaving the tips of their ears and noses looking slightly pink. Both men looked extremely uncomfortable in the glare and heat of day, though they stood at full attention._

_Raum himself looked as if he had just rolled out of bed. His hair had mostly fallen out of its tie, with one side fully loose and half-covering his face. It was fluffy and curled a bit at the edges, as if he hadn't combed it out fully. His eyes were shut, eyebrows drawn low; the face of a man woken much too early. Unlike the guards, he was not sweating or burnt, though it seemed to her his heavy black and green robes (haphazardly fastened at the neck, she noticed) should have been much worse for the heat._

_It was... A bit cute?_

_She shook her head, banishing the thought._ No! Shut up, this is serious!

_The guards eyed her as she approached. She didn't recognize either of them, but that didn't mean they didn't recognize her. Rana was not the only guard she saw about in there, just the only one she paid much attention to. She stopped a ways away, not wanting to anger them. "Raum?"_

_With what seemed like great effort, one eye opened and came to rest on her. "Princess."_

_His silken hiss was now a low croak. Not a good sign. She addressed the guards. "He knows me."_

_They exchanged a look._

_"I'm not going to do anything. You know me, too."_

_The one on the right motioned to the other. They took a slight step back, signaling their assent._

_She approached him. The vivid color of his eyes did a lot to emphasize the bruised circles underneath. "Are you alright?"_

_"An asinine question," he muttered, eyes now half-lidded with pain._

_She pouted. Well, maybe so, but the question wasn't meant to be answered literally. "I mean, is it getting any better? Your injury?"_

_He sighed, his right hand going to a place somewhere at his lower left side. He grimaced. "It isn't any worse."_

_She felt a chill. Somehow, having the location of the wound pointed out to her made it more real. She wished she could see it, if only to know how close he came to death._

_He looked so tired. Like the guards, he had a wilted quality about him. "Shouldn't you be inside, laying in bed?"_

_"I have done enough of that already," he grumbled. "I do not need to be cooped up in the dark."_

_She heard the guard immediately to her left groan._

_"Stop complaining," he hissed. "I am the one with the wound. You will survive another hour."_

_The guard's face said 'no I won't,' but he quieted._

_Well... He seemed to be on the mend, so, she wouldn't contradict him. Still... "They say you were taking care of yourself. Is that a good idea?"_

_"I am fine."_

_"You don't look fine."_

_"It doesn't matter. I have no choice."_

_"What do you mean you—"_

_He cut her off with a snarl. "Should I be in a rush to put my life in the hands of another? Here, in this wretched place?"_

_She clamped her mouth shut._

_He swallowed, eyebrows knitted and eyes closed. That outburst had hurt. "Then... Mind your own."_

_Her heart ached. How lonely that must feel, to think everyone was after you, to never be able to trust. She couldn't even argue against it, with the man given proof of such just last week. Twice in his life, even._

_She couldn't imagine it. Not with her family the way it was, loving and close, annoyingly so. Not with friends like Door and Louis around._

_Did that mean Raum didn't have family or friends to trust?_

_He opened his eyes again. Her thoughts must have shown on her face, because he suddenly looked away, a sneer on his lips. "If you are done gawking at me."_

_"I'm not_ gawking _, I'm just..." Horrified? Terrified? "Worried."_

_He huffed, his tone dismissive. "Spare me such drivel. There is no one about to appreciate such displays of benevolence."_

_She sucked in a breath. "I'm not displaying anything!"_

_He gave her a condescending look._

_She felt a smolder in her gut. "_ I'm not. _I was being honest."_

_He smirked nastily. His obvious fatigue blunted the edge of it, but only just. "Dear Princess, the day I_ do _meet my death—and do not worry, that day shall come, no one is lucky seven times in a row—"_

**This was the sixth time?!**

_"—you will be just as happy to attend the gala thrown as anyone else. This I know. I don't even blame you."_

_The cold from earlier washed over her again, doubled in intensity. The revelation of just how many times he had been attacked in his life, on top of his sureness she would celebrate his death..._

_But... He wasn't wrong about there being a party. It was true, he wasn't beloved. He was barely even tolerated. Maybe not even that, if people were actively trying to kill him. Door had told her long ago that Raum had the King's ear more often than not, and few other members of his cabinet or the larger court could say the same. It bred a certain kind of resentment. Add on to that his obvious disdain for all of them, and his blatant refusal to play by the same rules everyone else had to... Well, it was kind of amazing he had only been attacked twice in Illvey._

_"I wouldn't," she whispered._

_"It will be splendid. Easily on the level of a royal birthday."_

_She tried to fight down the burn of her anger. He felt a bit bad and was lashing out, that was all. She shouldn't take her feelings out on him. "That's awful."_

_"My murderer will be the guest of honor," he continued, laughing softly._

_"Don't say things like that," she hissed._

_"Why not? It's true," he stared into her eyes, smirk much sharper now. "Is that why you're here? To finish the job?"_

_The burn touched her heart. She slammed her hand on the arm of the bench, hard enough to make the thing vibrate all the way through. "Stop. Talking."_

_He started, his smirk disappearing in the same instant his eyes snapped wide open. The guards bristled slightly, hands tightening on their spears as they eyed her._

_Er. She hadn't meant to do that. She let her hand fall away, embarrassed by her temper. She really shouldn't be yelling at a sick man, even if he was being terrible on purpose. "I'm not going to any party."_

_He watched her warily._

_"I don't want you to die, either."_

_She felt, rather than saw, the guards relax. Raum did not; he continued to stare at her as if she had grown a second head._

_She crossed her arms. "They said you were in a lot of pain, so I wanted to come and have a look, see if you were alright. Since you're being _absolutely awful_ , I guess you are."_

_"When am I not awful?" he muttered._

_She frowned at him._

_He looked away. "F-Fine, if you feel so strongly about it. Your_ very genuine _concern has been noted."_

_That was probably the closest thing to an apology and acknowledgement she was ever going to get. She nodded, letting her arms fall back to her sides. "Good."_

_An uncomfortable silence stretched between them. The guards seemed restless, too._

_She hated to just leave him like this, even if he was being bitey. This probably wouldn't work, but she would try. "Is there anything I can do?"_

_He turned his head so quickly that she was afraid he might hurt himself._

_"Maybe you don't trust anyone here, but... I'm not from here, and..." she trailed off, unsure how to finish._

_His eyes searched her face. Whatever he found there, it only confused him further. "No. It is only a matter of time and care."_

_She glanced at the guard to her right. He wiped at his forehead with a handkerchief only slightly more wilted than his uniform._

_He seemed to have gotten the message. He shook his head. "That is not a job for an esteemed guest of the royal family."_

_"Doesn't look like a job for them, either," she whispered._

_The barest hint of a smile flickered across his face. "Do not concern yourself with me. It should be below your notice."_

_"It's not, but... Alright. Be well, Raum."_

_"I'll try," she heard him mutter as she turned away._

_She would let it go. Maybe being a brat made him feel better._

_She walked along the lane leading to the palace, watching birds dart from tree to tree along the way. Though she knew Door and Louis were waiting in the gallery, she was in no real hurry to get there._

_There had been a thought going around her head for some time now. It had started with a bangle three years ago._

_It had resurfaced with a necklace a year later._

_The armlet not long after._

_The bracelet last year._

_The necklace three months ago._

_The ring last month._

_It had just been a fantasy, really. She didn't think she would ever actually_ do _it. No, Raum was too valuable to Illvey, too easily missed, even if he wasn't liked. Not only that, but she could tell he was not the type to go quietly, let alone willingly._

_But... If he was in so much danger here, constant danger..._

It would be a really bad idea.

_If there was truly no one here he trusted, even just to heal him after an attack..._

He would hate me forever.

_Maybe she would._

_Maybe she should._

_Just... Something to think about._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> why do I keep putting porn and memories together.
> 
> The above is fantasy, things not strictly realistic, practice safe sex, etc. You've likely seen such warnings before. (I just don't want any earnest and well-meaning people coming around telling me what I already know.)


	14. Suspicions

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you like dialogue, because that's 95% of this chapter. It's also a little longer than usual, but I refuse to do anymore chapter splitting.
> 
>  **Going on hiatus until the new year** because I'm a big dumb idiot who decided she would make a ton of handmade Xmas gifts. Just an incredible moron. Extreme butthead. Total dumbass.

Raum was awake.

He groaned, annoyed at this awful new development. Perhaps if he stayed very still, he would fall asleep once more and not have to talk to anybody for a little while longer.

Things were going well until something started tickling his nose. Irritated, he swiped at it.

"Ow!"

His eyelids, heavy as they were, sprang open immediately.

"Mmph. Why'd you do that?" said Lena, from somewhere around his right shoulder. She sat up, rubbing her nose. "Didn't think you'd object so much to some morning cuddles."

Fortunately, he had already gone through the majority of his expected internal crises long before daybreak. Thus, while looking her in the eye was difficult, it was not impossible. "Apologies. I was reaching for my face."

"Mmm, s'alright," she said, sinking back out of sight and stretching out alongside him. He felt her press her lips to his jaw. "g'mornin'."

"Ah, er. Yes. Good morning."

She hummed a laugh into his neck. "Embarrassed?"

 _YES!_ he screamed internally. He had wrestled with his memory of the thing until he was too tired to think, then had another bout with it several hours later, just before daybreak. That he had managed any sleep at all was incredible, really.

He felt her arm snake around him, a welcome band of heat against his skin. "There's nothing to be ashamed of, you know. You were lovely."

There was plenty to be ashamed of and she knew it.

Another kiss, this time at his throat. "Mmm, pretty Raum. Moaning so sweetly beneath me."

No, no, no. He wasn't going to stay here for this. He gently pulled her arm from his chest as he sat up. "A-At any rate—"

"No, you get back here," she said, and he was flat on his back again, staring into mirth-filled hazel eyes. Stunned by this almost instantaneous change of scenery, he didn't resist as she pinned his wrists at either side of his head. "You are going to stay right there until I say you can go."

"I—Wait, when did these come apart?"

"Don't change the subject."

"What subject?" he asked, a full second before he realized he didn't want to know the answer.

She leaned in close, smiling mischievously. "The subject of how very adorable you are and how much I want to have you again and again and again."

His head was suddenly filled with cotton, feather light and devoid of thought. He looked away, face aflame. "D-Don't start that nonsense."

Undaunted, she leaned in even closer, whispering into his ear. "I like your pretty eyes and the way they get all dreamy when you give in and let me take you."

Immediately self-conscious, he slammed them shut. "I don't—"

She moved back again; he was sure she was enjoying watching his struggle. "I like running my fingers through your soft, pretty hair. You like it too, I see the look on your face when I do."

He tugged at her hands, but she had both strength and gravity on her side. "Lena—"

"All I have to do is stroke you a bit and you'll do whatever I want. Spoiled little pet."

He shivered at the unexpected endearment. "You said I was not a pet."

"But I pamper you like one, don't I? I love on you and tell you how wonderful you are, even when you've been absolutely rotten."

"That is the problem!" he growled, trying to squirm out of her iron grip. His attempt to buck her off went nowhere; she had foreseen such and arranged herself appropriately. "I won't pretend to understand why—"

"You've got the cutest little bottom," she interrupted. "I love to smack it. And you love to get it smacked, which is even better."

"I don't!" he choked out; his shock was such that he forgot to keep squirming.

"You do! You hate that you do, but you do. And that's so _very_ cute. Adorable man."

"You are insane," he hissed. There was nothing cute about any of that, or about any of him, and he wasn't going to hear any more.

To his annoyance, such venom only made her more cheerful. "Oh, and I like the cute little noises you make when—"

He did not want to hear about noises! He resumed his struggling, now more desperate to get away, or at least be able to plug his ears. "Let go, you idiot—"

She laughed and tightened her hold on him, pressing his wrists into the bed even harder. "They turn into sexy noises, you know—"

" _They do not!_ "

" _They do._ And the begging! I _love_ the begging. I can never get enough."

He ceased his struggle, panting from the exertion. He wasn't going to get out of this by brawn, that much was certain. He would have to try and talk his way out. He willed himself to meet her eyes again; the shine in them suggested he might not get out of this at all. "W-What has gotten into you this morning?"

She pouted. "Well, you keep saying things like I should want someone else, or my Raum's no good. Like you don't believe I like you, or anyone could."

Yes? Of course? He squinted at her.

She brightened again. "So, I'm going to convince you I do."

Oh, no. Oh no no no. He didn't need any convincing, she needed a head doctor. Perhaps an eye and ear doctor as well. "That is unnecessary."

"No? Then say, 'I'm very pretty and Lena loves me.'"

_Loves?!_

"Go on," she prompted.

He had control of his mental faculties again a moment later, though he wished he didn't. "What? No, that's utterly ridiculous—"

" _Say it._ Then I'll leave you alone."

He would do no such thing. He eyed her. If she wanted to be ridiculous, he could be, too. "You are very pretty and Lena loves you."

She scrunched up her nose. "No, say it right!"

"I refuse."

Suddenly she was close again, purring into his ear. "I love biting your pretty pink nipples, so tasty and soft."

"No!" he yelped, jerking in her grip. "No, no—"

"And I love it," she whispered, dark and sultry, "whenever you forget you're supposed to be a serious, proper man, and start moaning and squirming like a lovely little _slut_."

Again he shivered, his spine tingling with a strange intensity. His entire body was hot now, and he felt as if he might faint. " _Alright!_ Enough!"

"Then _say it_."

"I don't—"

"Say it or I'll talk about how soft and warm you were ins—"

"I am pretty and Lena loves me!" he shouted before she could end that horrifying sentence. "There, I said it, let me go!"

She smiled sweetly at him as she finally released his wrists. He didn't move them, as he was barely able to muster up the energy needed to glare at her. "Did you have to start so early in the morning?"

"Don't be mean to my Raum, then."

He would be as mean to himself as he wanted. He would have said as much if he didn't suspect it would cause the whole scene to play out again, perhaps even worse this time.

He felt her fingers comb through his hair. "Handsome."

He grumbled, throwing an arm over his eyes. She was not going to provoke him into another round, either.

...Though yes, that did feel good. She had been correct about that much.

In fact, he had been enjoying it immensely when she suddenly stopped and jerked away. "Shit! I forgot to go tell mother about Donte's letter! I was thinking about going back after the stalls, but then... All that happened."

'All that,' indeed.

 _Wait!_ He removed his arm and sat up, taking note of her clenched fists and deep frown. "Before you go... What is 'Thief Moon'?"

She paused, brows knitted in confusion. "What?"

"Ulla," he said, the name feeling cold and slimy in his mouth. "She said everything would be done by 'Thief Moon'. What does that refer to?" He supposed it must be a term specific to Elgia; whether 'Thief Moon' was a good Illvan translation, he had no idea.

She blinked at him a few times. "Oh! It's when the moon goes dark. Easy to sneak around in, you know? Thief's Moon."

He frowned. He had not noticed the moon's phase yesterday.

"It was almost half full last night."

He sighed. "About three weeks, then. They plan to strike within that time, and things are already in motion."

She studied him, worrying her bottom lip as she did so. "You said something about them moving?"

"I did. Oraela called for reinforcements from Dorothea, apparently. The traitors learned of this and are planning to strike before they can arrive. With 'dregs' and 'friends.'"

Her eyebrows shot up.

"You don't remember me telling you this last night?"

She hunched over, guilt plain on her face. "No, I got distracted. But so did you!"

He cleared his throat, face hot again. That was true.

"So, when did that happen? The call to Door, I mean."

He frowned. "I assume it must have been after you notified her of the extra letters. Though... It does not make sense. Even if Oraela is using her secret ship... The timing is strange."

_"Very weak children. Not loyal. Spoiled... Stupid."_

Ah.

"Saen," he sighed, disgusted with himself for not seeing it sooner.

Lena started. "Saen?"

She would not take this well. Still, she had to know. "She must have shared the contents of the outgoing message with the traitors last night while I was watching them. She is also the one who added the extra letters before."

Her mouth opened in a 'o' of horror. "My _sister_?"

"Your couriers would 'never betray' the royal family, correct? Saen must have learned a letter was going out to you and panicked at what it could mean. When she added two more to the outgoing bundle, tied with royal colors, I'm sure the courier thought nothing of it. She is family, after all."

Her expression did not change.

"She called the traitors back and had them take their armies with them in an attempt to head off whatever Oraela was planning to do once you got here."

"Wait," she said, voice shaking. "You can't just say my sister is..."

She had to know, even if it was hard to hear. "Listen to me. I am sure you love her greatly, but Ulla was clear on this point. She is working with them."

He watched her face as she took it in: the little twitches at the corners of her mouth, the deepening line between her brows. She was wrestling with the idea, trying to find a reason to reject it and coming up short. When next she spoke, her voice was soft, uncertain. "Why would she do that?"

A good question. He himself had initially wondered if Saen might be another Dorothea: a royal child passed over as the heir, furious with her parent's misrule, willing to do great violence in order to right perceived wrongs to herself and her country. It was a fair guess, at surface level.

But only at surface level.

Though he had been... _Distracted_ , this last week or so, Raum had nevertheless found plenty of time to sit and think things through. Not just the current happenings in Elgia, but those that had ultimately led to the King's death in Illvey. Now, with the twin benefits of time and distance, he believed he could finally see where everything had started to go so wrong.

The coup in Illvey had not started with the artillery fire of a week and a half ago. It had started with the death of the Queen, ten years ago.

He himself had seen the change in Dorothea only days after the funeral. Her mild manner and dull personality had not changed, but _something_ had. There was a newfound confidence there, a steeliness... A determination.

He had not sensed the yawning abyss of hatred that hid just below her placid surface. None of them did, until it was too late.

Saen was not Dorothea. She was incapable of hiding even the slightest frustration, let alone a deep-seated rage so extreme that could devour a kingdom. Further, it was clearly not Oraela she held such hatred for.

If Dorothea's great sin was wrath, then it seemed to him that Saen's may very well be envy.

To say such to Lena's face... He hesitated. This was all mostly conjecture on his part. To hurt her so deeply for something he wasn't completely sure about...

"I cannot say for certain," he said, finally. It was the truth.

Her eyes slid down to the bedding, fixing on a point slightly beyond its surface. "Saen would never... She can be difficult, but..."

"You must be vigilant. Even if you do not want to believe it."

She did not answer. Her eyes flicked back and forth as she sorted through her thoughts; the line between her brows deepened as she did so.

He sucked in a deep breath. He wasn't particularly skilled at comfort, but he was at manipulation. "Lena. _I beg you._ Since you love hearing me do so."

She quickly turned her head to look at him again, surprise written across her face.

He coughed. "Please, take this seriously. For your own sake and mine."

Her smile this time was rather subdued, but he would take it. "I will."

"Good. Then you should go speak with Oraela, as soon as possible."

She bit her lip, her eyes roving over his face. "I don't want to leave you alone."

Oh dear God, not again! He barely survived the first time. "I-I am very aware, thank y—"

"No! I mean... I don't want anything else to happen to you while I'm not around."

Oh.

She hung her head. "Raum, I know... I really haven't done a good job of protecting you. I guess I can't. Not like I want to."

He wasn't sure what to say to that. He had told her to run along, that he would be fine. He could hardly be angry with her for believing him.

She seemed to come to some kind of decision, nodding once to herself before meeting his gaze again. "So... I give you permission to use magic to protect yourself. Okay?"

His breath caught. "Truly?"

"Yeah, but..." She paused, her face pinched with worry. "If you were to hurt someone and I couldn't prove it was in self defense, or if you were caught before I could get there..."

He would pay the price.

She reached out and laid her hand on his. "Just... Be careful, okay? I don't want you hurt. I _never_ want you hurt."

A dull ache started in his throat. Unable to speak, he nodded assent.

She smiled warmly. "Good."

* * *

Lena swallowed a growl of frustration. Of course it was like this.

"Lena!" called Oraela from her seat at the center of the council chamber, her arms thrown wide in greeting. She paid no mind to the irritated glances from around the room. "Have you come to sit at council with me?"

Saen, seated on a stool next to her, regarded Lena suspiciously. "I doubt it."

Lena flinched. Fair, but it still hurt a bit.

Of the five sisters, only Saen had ever taken the title of 'Princess' seriously. Diplomacy and decorum, manners and grace; she said it was her duty to become someone worthy of leading Elgia, whether she ended up on the throne in the end or not.

The rest of them, well, not so much. Noa considered herself a mother before anything else; Maija was a woman of business through and through; Rael and Lena's careers had gone in a more martial direction, with Rael choosing the path of the raider and Lena joining the ranks of the berserkers.

That was the reason none of them had ever taken her attitude personally: she wasn't being nasty just to be nasty, she was trying to make the rest of them act right. A thankless job, considering none of them had any interest in doing that and their mother didn't care either way.

For her to be a traitor...

_"She is working with them."_

She shook her head, forcefully dispelling the unwanted memory. _No, no. Can't be true. Makes no sense._

Her mother lowered her arms, puzzled. "Lena?"

"No," she admitted, shuffling her feet. "I, um. Wanted to talk to you."

"Oh? What is it?"

She glanced at Saen before she could stop herself.

Her sister's brows rose, though her face remained impassive. "Is it something I cannot hear?"

_"Even if you do not want to believe it."_

Raum was much better at figuring out people than she was, and what he said about the letters had made a lot of sense. So while it _couldn't_ be true... It could be, too. She would trust him, then, at least as far as not blurting everything out in front of Saen.

She rubbed the back of her neck. "Um. No, I... Um, actually, never mind. Can't remember it just now."

Saen did not look convinced, but her mother accepted it without any trouble. She grinned. "Careful, daughter. You're too young to be so forgetful."

She laughed, cringing at how forced it sounded.

"Ah! Wait, it's good that you came. Betula was asking about you. You must have made an impression yesterday."

She blinked, blindsided by the change in subject. "Really?"

Oraela beamed. "I told you I believed in you."

She flush. "W-Well. I didn't... Don't know why she would, I bungled it so bad."

Saen, safely out of their mother's line of sight, rolled her eyes; Lena, being directly in it, resisted the urge to stick her tongue out in response.

Blissfully ignorant, Oraela continued. "It would be good for you to speak to her again. She is patient and will help you learn. She should still be in the garden from last time."

 _But it's you I need to talk to!_ She looked to Saen again.

Her eyes narrowed. "Go on. I know this council business is so very _boring_ for you."

"Don't tease her," chided Oraela. "It is boring for me, too."

Saen frowned in response. "You should take it seriously."

"I didn't say I didn't take it seriously," she returned, "only that it is boring. Lena, go now. Say hello to her for me."

Well, if she couldn't talk to her alone now, she would just have to wait until she could. Talking to Betula would pass the time until then, at least.

Several secretaries bumbled into their vicinity, looking both abashed at having to interrupt and annoyed at Lena for interrupting them.

"A-Alright, I'm going." She offered her mother a quick little bow as she skittered out of the way. Oraela waved absently, the secretaries already demanding all of her attention.

She was about to turn around and leave when she and Saen's eyes locked again.

This time, she did stick out her tongue.

* * *

As her mother said, Betula was sitting in the same enclosed garden. Her silvery hair and skin shimmered in the sun as she absently rooted through a bag of dried fruit in her lap. She smiled, her dark eyes crinkling at the corners. "Lena, good day."

_"Lena, don't... Get too close to that woman."_

Raum would have an absolute fit if he knew she was here again, but her mother had put her up to it, so. Still, she'd be careful, like he said. She bowed. "Hello."

The woman sniffed curiously at the air. Lena, suddenly self-conscious, resisted the urge to smell herself. Before she could blurt out what was probably going to be a really awkward apology, the woman spoke again. "Come, sit with me a moment. Oraela has been busy all morning, and I have no one to talk to."

She did, settling herself into the seat immediately next to her. "Um. Mother said you were asking about me."

"I was! I thought our conversation yesterday was so very interesting."

Was it? All she could remember was asking some very stupid questions and getting kicked under the table for it. She smiled politely anyway.

A silence descended upon them. It was very uncomfortable for her, though it looked like the Fae woman didn't feel the same; she studied Lena as she daintily popped a piece of dried fruit into her mouth.

Alright, well, the silence wasn't working for her, so she'd break it. "So! Uh... How are you?"

"I am well. Oh! Forgive me, I have been rude. Would you like one?" She held the bag out in offering.

"Ah... No thank you. Never really liked the dried stuff."

The woman's pale brows shot up in surprise. "Really? I find them delightful. To each her own, I suppose."

She rubbed the back of her neck, wondering just how bad she'd screwed that up. Should she have just taken one? She wasn't sure.

It didn't look like she minded all that much, though. "The woman at the stall this morning was so very kind. She wanted me to sample everything! I almost did, save for the meats."

_"Cannibalism."_

She swallowed, remembering the way Raum had glanced at her lunch as he said it, like he had seen something that turned him off on the idea forever. Was Betula the same? "You don't like meat?"

The woman laughed. "Oh, it is not a question of 'like.' I simply cannot eat it. It is the Pact of my House, you see."

She blinked. All of those words made sense on their own, but not but all together and in that order. "Pact?"

"Oh, do forgive me. I forgot, you do not know about my kind."

"Sorry."

She leaned in closer, her smile indulgent. "Do not apologize, I am far from angry. I will tell you: It is an aspect of my kind. Every Fae belongs to a House, and every House has a Pact.

"My kind are not just a part of nature, we _are_ nature. We cannot simply give and take as we live, as you do; we must be in congruence with it. Thus, every House has a Pact with some part of the natural world: an agreement to live in a certain way so that we may receive the blessing of that part." She sat up straighter, her hand splayed over her chest. "My House, great and noble Arborea, holds a Pact with the trees."

Well, she did look a bit... Tree-ish? She was very tall, anyway, and long of limb and finger. Now that she thought about it, the woman's silvery glow made her think of the pale-barked trees so common in the forests of Illvey.

"We do not eat flesh, as we do not hunt. We are somewhat diminished at night. I fear we are also especially susceptible to flame... Though, really, what living thing is not?"

That explained why Lena hadn't seen her last night, at least. "That's rough."

"Oh, do not worry! These few sacrifices are well worth the benefits." Her smile grew larger. "We are beloved by the Sun. His loving caress calms us, heals us... His proud gaze boosts our natural stores of magic. We live hundreds of years longer than any other house, healthy and strong long after their bodies have died and rotted away. And of course there is also our impressive height! The other Houses are so envious of us there, let me tell you."

"Oh. Well, that's not so bad then."

"We are one of the best Houses to belong to, in my humble opinion."

Sounded like it. Though, she wondered what the others were like. Would Betula know anything about them, or would it be impolite to ask?

Her lecture concluded, the woman rewarded herself with another bit of dried fruit. She chewed on it thoughtfully as she gazed at Lena. "Now that I have told you so much about myself... Would you mind answering a little question of mine?"

Agh! Not only had she been nosy, she'd let her mother's guest do all the talking. Why was she so bad at this? "S-Sure. What is it?"

"Why do you _reek_ of magic?"

She choked.

"As if you have rolled around in it," she said, sniffing the air again, "for hours."

She wasn't ashamed of what she had done, but what a pointed question! "I, er, sort of did. My man's got some magic to him, probably rubbed off on me."

Betula stared at her, eyes narrowed.

Uh oh. Was that too straightforward? Was she meant to be cute about it? Seemed like a fair return to her question, but you never knew where that line was with somebody until you'd crossed it. She winced.

The woman sat back and began to rummage through her bag of treats again, mouth gathered in a pout. "Tsk, I apologize. I was being _nosy_ , and I know better. You should have stopped me."

"No! No, it's alright. I, um. I was pretty nosy too. Fair's fair."

"Then all is well—Oh!" She pulled her hand out of the bag, picked it up and turned it upside-down, frowning. "I am out. How unfortunate."

She had been going to town on it. Probably better not to say so to her face, though.

She pouted, wadding it up into a ball. "I think... I will go back and buy some more. For later, of course."

"O-Oh. Are you leaving?"

The woman smiled. "I do apologize. It is not enough for me to show you my gluttonous side, I must now show myself to be a terrible guest as well."

She thought back to her almost thwarted search for lunch yesterday. "No! It's fine, I mean... If she's popular, she might sell out early. Happens a lot, actually."

"You understand! How wonderful." She rose from her seat. "Then, I must take my leave. Thank you, Lena. You were very helpful just now."

She was? About what?

"Good bye, dear Lena!" She offered a little wave as she left. It wasn't until the woman had fully exited the garden that Lena thought to return her gesture; she let her hand fall back down onto her knee, embarrassed.

Well that was... Interesting. Odd, but interesting. Kind of like last time.

They hadn't talked all that long, but Lena couldn't help herself; she made her way back to the council chamber and had another look inside. Still organized chaos. Saen was still there, too. _Guess I'm not talking to mother 'til later._

Annoyed, she turned around on her heel and wandered back down the hall leading to the outside, destination now uncertain. Lurking around outside the chamber didn't appeal, and honestly, it seemed like a bad idea. If Saen _was_ a traitor—though she probably wasn't—that would be a good way to get her suspicious, and that was the last thing Lena needed.

Maybe she'd go back home and hang around Raum? She grinned, remembering his furious blushing as she lavished attention on him earlier. _He's probably happy to catch a break from me after that._ Maybe she should leave him alone for a little while, let him catch his breath.

Only... She did not like the idea of him alone for too long. Not after what happened last night. Even if he had the ability to defend himself now, that was still mostly a last resort kind of thing, and...

_"If he ever hurt anyone, he would have to be put to death."_

Saen had just been exaggerating, really, but... Yeah, that was a possibility. Came down to how bad the injury was. If it wasn't too bad, well, he might just be punished or sold off—

Her jaw clenched. No, that wasn't better, not at all. Especially not with someone as awful as Ulla waiting around for the chance to hurt him.

Maybe giving him his magic back had been a bad idea? But... He had looked so happy when she told him. She couldn't just take it away again. She'd just have to trust him to be smart about it, which... She could do really easy, actually. She relaxed slightly, happy to know she wouldn't have to disappoint him after all.

...Though he'd probably still be plenty disappointed if he found out she talked to Batula again. Maybe she just wouldn't tell him about that part. It wasn't like anything happened, anyway. She just learned a bit about her House, that's all. Like how they don't eat meat, are loved by the sun, and are really tall—

She stopped dead in the middle of the road, eyes wide.

_"We do not eat flesh, as we do not hunt."_

Raum didn't eat meat.

_"We are beloved by the Sun. His loving caress calms us, heals us..."_

He always seemed to be out in the gardens during his free time, and never ever in the shade. More than that, she had never seen him burn, though he was so very pale.

_"We live hundreds of years longer than any other house, healthy and strong long after their bodies have died and rotted away."_

Raum had said he was thirty-something when he first arrived in Illvey, but that had been almost forty years ago, right? So why did he still look, well, thirty-something?

_"And of course there is also our impressive height!"_

He was one of the tallest men she had ever seen. He easily dwarfed the men of Illvey; even the men of the northern kingdoms, tall as they were, were nowhere close to his height.

Could Raum be...

* * *

She didn't mean the slam the door open that hard, but, well, things happen.

"Lena?" came a very concerned-sounding Raum from the sitting room. "Did you talk to Oraela?"

She yanked the door shut as she rushed that way, heart still pounding from her flight. Rounding the corner into the room, she found him lounging on the chaise again. Several books were scattered before him, and he held a half-eaten apple in one hand.

He surveyed her from head to toe, his expression puzzled. "Are you alright? What is the ma—"

"Are you a Fae?" she blurted, too wound up to stop herself.

He blinked, face impassive. "What?"

"Are you?" she prodded. "Like that Fae woman?"

He rolled his eyes. "A bizarre accusation."

No, she knew that tone. He was trying to talk around it. She set her jaw, fists on her hips. " _Yes or no._ Are you a Fae?"

He stared at her, his eyes narrowed, a light frown on his lips. She had seen that look before. It was his 'stop bothering me with this nonsense' look, which she herself had been on the receiving end of many times.

Too bad for him it hadn't ever worked on her. She stared back, defiant.

"No," he said finally, his gaze immediately returning to his books. He took another bite of the apple as he nonchalantly turning a page of the tome closest to him.

He couldn't lie, so. That was that.

She deflated instantly, feeling incredibly stupid. She'd been so sure she'd figured something out there, and... She didn't.

He peered up at her again, a smirk snaking its way across his face. "Did you run all the way back here to ask me such nonsense? _Lena._ "

She flushed, humiliated. "No, I—"

 _Wait._ She halted.

There it was: a certainty that something wasn't adding up. She'd gotten all up in her head again and almost missed something important. Good thing her gut didn't pay attention to words like her mind did.

She peered closer at him, looking for whatever oddity that had set it off. She'd never win a round of mind games against Raum, but she knew him well enough to know when he'd started a round with her.

Wasn't he a little too calm about being 'accused'? He'd been trembling when he warned her about the Fae yesterday. Used words like 'depraved' and 'mad.' Shouldn't he be angry with her, or even just annoyed? What was with the cocky condescension?

 _He can't lie,_ said her mind.

 _He's trying to chase you away,_ said her gut.

He arched an eyebrow. "Well?"

If he couldn't lie, but he wanted the conversation to end... Then there was definitely something there. Something to dig up.

He wasn't a Fae, and could say that honestly. Didn't mean he wasn't part Fae.

"Are you... Half Fae?"

His smirk leveled out. "I told you. I am not a Fae."

She just managed to stop herself from bouncing on her heels. If he was irritated with her, then she was closer to the truth. "But, are you _half_ Fae?"

He said nothing, only glared at her.

"Say no if it isn't true," she said, sweetly as she could.

He looked away, a deep frown etched into his face.

Dead on.

"I knew something wasn't right," she breathed.

"What isn't right," he snarled, "is—"

"You tasted _green_."

He fumbled the apple, which dropped to the floor and rolled under the chaise. "I _what_?"

Excited, she scrambled onto the chaise, knocking most of his books onto the floor and chasing him towards the foot. "When I had you on that first day, on the floor. You tasted green, or floral, or something. Not like—"

"No, no, no, no, no," he grumbled, clapping his hands over his ears, a pretty blush spreading over his face. "I don't want to hear that!"

She bounced happily and pulled them back away. "The point is, _I figured it out_." She grinned, ecstatic. "You tried to chase me off just now and I figured you out, too!"

His sigh came out as a hiss.

"That's why you don't eat meat, right? And why you were always out in the sun, not skulking around in shadows like you ought to have been."

He squinted at her. "Ought to have been?"

"You don't get sunburnt," she continued, too excited by her discovery to change track now. "You should, you're as pale as anything, but you don't."

He grumbled something indistinct, lightly pulling at her grip on his arms.

She let him go as something else began to dawn on her. "Why you don't seem to age..."

He shifted uncomfortably. "Yes, yes, you figured it out. Brilliant work. Now _let it go_."

She stared at him, enraptured. "Raum... How old are you?"

He hunched his shoulders. "Does it matter? I'm obviously far too old for you anyway and you still took me." He gazed at her sidelong, a nasty little smirk on his face. "Taker's remorse?"

He could be as bratty as he wanted, she wouldn't be distracted. "Tell me."

"No," he said, moving to leave the chaise.

She wrestled him back down and straddled his hips; she could do a little mind gaming of her own if she had to. "Tell me or I'll guess!"

His eyes flicked from her face to where she straddled on him. "L-Lena, it doesn't matter—"

Alright, first go. "Are you... Over thirty?"

He tried to squirm away. "I'm not going to answer—"

"Forty?"

"Lena."

"Fifty?"

" _Lena._ "

Her eyes were open so wide they hurt. "Sixty?"

He puffed up, indignant. "Do I look over sixty to you?"

She squinted at him. "Eighty?"

"You are ridiculous," he hissed.

"Okay, then... Are you under one hundred?"

"Of course I—"

"Under ninety?"

He choked.

" _You're over ninety years old?_ " she whispered, stunned.

He finally stopped squirming, his head thudding back onto the chaise. "Fine. We have established that I am a very old man. While you learn to live with that—"

"Did you live there? In the Fae Lands?" she blurted, leaning in to look into his eyes. Was that why they were so bright? Fae blood?

He gave no answer. He stared past her, a frown on his lips.

"Raum?"

At length he sighed, closing his eyes and pressing his fingers to his temples. "I don't want to talk about it."

She was about to dog him further when she saw it... The faint tremor in his hands.

_"They are utterly depraved, and their madness is contagious. Whatever intrigues or scandals you have seen in here or in Illvey, they are nothing compared to what goes on up there."_

He had made it sound like he was on the outside looking in, just watching things happen to other people. That he might have been a victim...

_"Abuse, torture... Murder, sometimes of entire families, or clans."_

She gently stroked his face. "Was it that bad?"

"It was," he said, his voice oddly low and flat. After a moment, he gazed into her eyes. "Lena... I understand your excitement for what is new to you, but... Please. Let this go. I beg you."

Maybe she really should stop digging. Some things... Some things had to stay buried, at least until the one who buried them could stand to look at them again.

She moved to lay by his side, her head pillowed on his shoulder; she kissed it lightly before pressing her forehead there. "Sorry. I just... Got kind of excited, figuring something out. N'it was something about you, so... Yeah. Real interesting."

She heard him sigh again. "It is fine. I knew I could not hide it forever." He rubbed his chin. "That it took so long for anyone to notice..."

"'Lot of people thought you were a vampire."

His chest shook with quiet laughter. "Yes, vampire, ghoul, necromancer... Anything but the most obvious answer. Then again, I suppose I do not fit the description."

He didn't? She thought he did. Sharp and pretty in the face, and then there were those lovely eyes... Though Betula's weren't like that. "Did your eyes come from your other parent? The not-Fae one?"

He stiffened. "I wouldn't know."

Shit. She really did have a talent for finding the exact wrong thing to say.

A sudden clatter at the door startled them both; she was treated to a whirling show of ceiling-ground-ceiling just before her back hit the floor.

Raum peeked over the edge of the chaise, alarmed. "A-Are you alright?"

The force of the blow had knocked the air out of her; she nodded, unable to speak. Next time, she'd lay on the side against the wall.

A thump-thump-thump of footsteps sounded, and Rael skidded around the corner. The huge grin on her face died as soon as she laid eyes on them. "What are you doing?"

"Fell off," Lena gasped, forcing herself to sit up. She rubbed the back of her head. "Don't just come into people's houses!"

Her sister shrugged. "You're my sister. Doesn't count."

"Yes it does," she muttered, slowly getting to her feet. "What do you want?"

Maija's head popped around the corner. " _We_ want to take you out for a while. Since we didn't get to visit you for long last time." Her gaze alighted on Raum, who had moved to sit at the foot of the chaise, his head turned away from them. "Ah! Look who it is!"

"Don't you dare," she growled. She glanced at Raum's face. His eyes flicked to her briefly before returning to the floor. Probably for the best he didn't understand any Elgian.

"What? I just wanted to say hello."

She sat next to Raum on the chaise, blocking most of him off from her sight. "Do it from a distance."

She rolled her eyes as Noa and Saen walked in behind her.

Saen! If Saen was _here_ , she wasn't _there_ , meaning she could go talk to mother right now! She swallowed. "I can't. I mean, not right now. I have some stuff I have to do."

Saen frowned, dark brows drawn down and face pinched in disgust. "You were invited by your elders, you should accept." Her eyes flicked to Raum. "And why is that on the furniture again?"

"Lena's in trouble," sang Rael. "That's what you get for not Princessin' properly."

Saen gave her a dirty look.

Maija's eyes began to flick back and forth between Lena and Raum. "Ohhh, wait, wait. She doesn't want to leave her man! How cute!"

She flushed. That wasn't the problem, but it hit kind of close anyway. "Shut up!"

Rael sighed deeply. "That's so nice. I want one too."

Maija wrapped an arm around her shoulders. "I told you, let me find you one. I know where they keep the really nice ones for sale. You would get first pick!"

"It's no good if you don't catch one yourself," Rael groaned, shrugging off her arm.

"So old-fashioned."

"It worked for Lena!"

Noa smiled. "Lena had a very definite target in mind."

"An obsession," chirped Maija.

Why did they keep calling it that?! "It wasn't an obsession!"

The round of looks she got back made her want to bash their heads in.

"Anyway," said Noa, "come, let's go. It will only be for a little while, and then you can come home and pet him all you want."

She bit her lip. What a horribly reasonable thing to say. There was no real counter to it, not without making it plain what she actually wanted to do.

She guessed there was no harm. She could try to catch her again when she got back, after Saen had left. And... Maybe it would be a good idea to go. Watch Saen a bit. If he thought there was something to watch... There might be.

She turned to Raum. She hated to leave after bringing up bad memories. For her to just go off and drink with her sisters while poor Raum sat here, alone, thinking about a past he didn't want to was... Really awful.

"Lena," prodded Noa. "he'll be alright."

She wasn't so sure about that. She slid her hand over his, switching to the Illvan tongue. "Raum... Sorry. They want me to go out for a little bit, and since I turned them down last time... You know."

He nodded, still looking away.

She squeezed once, lightly. "I'll be back soon, alright? Don't... Think too much. About things."

A moment later, she felt his hand flip underneath hers, clasping it lightly. _It is alright._

She smiled, squeezing once more. She rose, letting his hand fall from hers as she did so. "Alright, let's go."

* * *

Fortunately, he had always been able to lose himself in books; the past couldn't follow him there, try as it might.

She had been gone some time when a clatter at the front door startled him out of the text he had been reading. He failed to catch it before it tumbled off the edge of the chaise. He declined to fetch it again, sure that whatever Lena had to say about her outing would require his full and undivided attention. He sat back, patiently waiting for her to round the corner into the sitting room, fingers steepled over his stomach.

She did not appear.

He arched a brow. That was odd. At the very least, she would have called out to him by now. Had he imagined that?

After a moment, someone began rapping at the door.

An ill feeling came over him. That was not Lena. Who knocked on their own front door?

He would stay where he was. Anyone who came up here was going to be looking for her, not him. There was no point in his answering the door. Perhaps if he stayed quiet, they would assume no one was home and leave.

No such luck. The rapping continued.

He swallowed. No one was that persistent without reason. Whoever it was, they knew someone was here.

_"I give you permission to use magic to protect yourself. Okay?"_

Yes... There was that. It would not be as risky to check as it might have been before Lena's very generous gift of his own power. He rose from the chaise, flinching as the rapping started again.

Unfortunately, Lena's front door was solid wood, with no window or peephole. Neither side had a gap large enough to peer through, either, though he could see the tell-tale shadow of the visitor's two feet underneath. He briefly considered having a look through the sitting room windows, but rejected the idea. The angles were all wrong if he wished to be stealthy, and if memory served, there was plenty of vegetation to get in the way.

There was only one option. He took a deep breath. _I have my power again. Even in the worst case, I can defend myself._

He cracked open the door.

" _Cousin Raum,_ " said Betula, her face split nearly in two by an inhumanly long and sharp-toothed grin. "How good it is to see you again."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Honestly not real thrilled with this one (some of it should've been spread out through earlier chapters), but I'm committed now, so here we are. 
> 
> (Four more chapters and I'm done! Holy shit!)


	15. The Trap

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> my hands hurt lol
> 
> This one's long and no one bangs. Sorry, I hate me too.
> 
> * Some edits were made a day or two after publish. Nothing big.

His attempt to force the door shut again was for naught; her long, pale fingers curled around the edge as she slowly pushed it back open. Her voice stayed bright and cheerful, untouched by their struggle. "I _knew_ I recognized that scent. Raum, are you not happy to see me?"

"No," he hissed through gritted teeth.

"So rude!" she laughed, continuing to push her way inside. "Come now, be a good host. Lena would be so sad to learn you were being awful to her _good friend_ Betula."

Knowing it was futile, he threw his weight into the door once more. He was unsurprised to feel the floor slide beneath his feet as she pushed him further back. "I am _not_ a good host and you are _not_ her good friend."

"Your hospitality _is_ somewhat lacking," she growled, and he was sent stumbling back into the opposite wall as she violently slammed the door open. "But I am everyone's good friend."

Somehow, fate had delivered to him a houseguest even worse than Ulla. As heinous as such a visit would be, he at least had the means to defend himself; he had little hope of winning against a full-fledged Fae, even with full use of his offensive powers.

She stepped inside, ducking under the doorframe. "What a charming little abode. Clearly not meant for the vertically gifted, however." She sniffed. "It has been hard on you too, I am sure."

"Leave, Betula!" he snarled. Hatred briefly overtook terror, dampening the shake in his voice. "You are not welcome here."

She harrumphed. "You are not the master of this house, you cannot banish me. Have you forgotten even that?"

She was correct, and he hated it. Forget being the master, he wasn't sure if he even counted as a full member of the household.

After a brief survey of the hall, she turned and headed for the sitting room. "Now, stop being a grouch and come talk to me. We have much to discuss."

He watched her go, his heart pounding nearly as hard as his head. Suddenly lightheaded, he leaned harder into the wall and slid down to the floor.

Of course. Lena had all but told him her name.

_"A Fae woman. A 'good friend,' I guess."_

How many of their kind were willing to travel so far away from their ancestral home, and of those, how many called themselves 'friend' to anybody? He knew of only one such creature in House Arborea. He doubted there were more than a handful of such cases in the whole of the Fae court.

Why hadn't he made the connection before? He had not seen nor heard from the woman in almost seventy years, true, but for him to forget her completely... For him to forget anything from that place...

He had gotten too comfortable in Illvey, far out of reach of their kind. He had thought it all behind him, thought it safe to forget.

He should have known better.

" _Raum!_ " she sang from the sitting room. "I do not have all day!"

 _Please, Lena. Stay away a little longer._ Grudgingly, he followed her into the other room. He found her sat at the table, at the end Lena usually chose for herself. He bristled at the sight. "What is it you want?"

"Only to speak to my dear long lost cousin," she purred, pointing him to the seat across from hers. "Is that so wrong?"

"It is when he ran away from you and your kind," he muttered, settling in the seat immediately next to that one. Petty, yes, but petty was all he had.

"'Our kind,'" she mocked. "As if you are not one of us."

"I am not one of you," he bit out, bile rising in his throat. "I will never be one of you."

"You are and always will be. You may have left us, but you cannot run from your own blood."

He could. He would. Forever, if he had to.

She sighed deeply, tracing little circles into the table surface with a finger. "Your defection hurt us all so very much. We had so much hope for you, _the favorite_. For you to reject us and run away to the lower kingdoms..."

He seethed. He did not want to be their 'favorite', and 'lower' did not refer to geographical direction.

"How we mourned your loss. And it was not only us, even the Queen missed you!"

"So did her archers," he muttered.

"Oh, Raum, do be nice." She smiled again as she began drawing circles into the table with a claw. "They were trying their best."

He glared at her. "I do not care for your sense of humor."

"You never were any fun."

He did not care for Fae notions of fun, either.

"Anyway. To think I would finally find you here, in Elgia." She leaned forward, propping her chin up on the back of her hand. "You are normally so adept at running away from your problems. What happened?"

He suppressed a flinch at the double meaning. He would not give her the satisfaction. "I did not see the danger in time."

"Oh? So you were captured. How long ago?"

He remained silent. She, and by extension, House Arborea, did not need to know anything more than that.

She stared at him a moment more, pouting once she realized he wouldn't be volunteering any further information. Sitting upright again, she became preoccupied with rearranging her skirts. "I quite like it here, you know. The land is beautiful, and the people are so very interesting. I think it is fun! Oh, but... You would have a different perspective, I suppose."

There was no point in reacting to her needling, either. It would only encourage her to stay longer and ask more questions he didn't want to answer.

"If you like," she began coyly, watching him from under her lashes, "I could take you back with me. Back home, where you belong."

His answer was automatic, out of his mouth before he had time to process the question completely. "No, never. Do not ask again."

"No?" Her brows rose. "You do not want to leave here? Do you like being a slave?"

"What I was there was no better," he hissed.

"You cannot seriously believe that!" Her expression became sly. "Is it the sex?"

The multitude of objections he had to that caught in his throat all at once; he was immediately taken over by a coughing fit.

She sighed. "It is, isn't it? Men are so simple, even among our own. Shameful."

Once he had control over his airways again, he fixed her with a very heartfelt glower. "Betula, _why are you here_?"

"I just said—

"No. Why are you here in Elgia?"

"Why, I am making friends, of course. It is all I ever do!"

To be a 'friend' to Betula was to be a pawn of House Arborea, destined to be used in whatever idiot squabbles they had with the other Houses. Odd that she was looking for such so far south of home, but it was possible their network of 'friends' had grown much faster and farther out after he left.

"So many friends," she continued with smile, "I can hardly keep track of them all."

Ulla's horrible visage swam before him. _"Start with dregs, friends."_

_Friends._

The sharp, giddy grin she had given him at the door was back, and no less awful this time. "Such a face you are making, cousin."

He swallowed. Where Fae were involved, there were no coincidences. "And who, exactly, have you been making friends with?"

"Who have I not? I am quite popular here." She laughed her horribly twee little laugh, setting his teeth on edge.

He was all but sure now. "Are any of them better friends than Oraela?"

She smirked. "I have not decided yet."

A chill passed through him. With only Donte's letter for reference, he had guessed Tanel's outside allies to be an assortment of disgruntled Southern and Illvan lords along the coast. If they had Betula, then they potentially had the whole of House Arborea, and all of their 'friends' as well. It was no wonder Ulla had such confidence in their coming victory.

"As much as I like Oraela... Well, it would be so much _easier_ if the one on the throne were inclined to be grateful to us, don't you think?"

Of course. The only thing better than a pawn found out in the wild is one you install yourself.

"Such a shame," she sighed, "Lena is so charming, too."

He tensed at Lena's name.

Her eyes glinted with familiar malevolence. "So honest! So _trusting_. It would never occur to her to watch for a knife in the back."

He fought to keep his breathing even as streaks of white-hot anger lanced through him. It was a trap, he knew.  
She was needling him in the hopes of finding a weakness to exploit—a tactic he had learned directly from her, so long ago. "Betula."

"Not from family. Not from friends. The poor girl... She will not understand the danger until the blade sinks all the way in, I fear."

He knew better. _He knew better._ Still, his nerves jumped at her words, sparked at how she delivered them. " _Betula._ "

"Just think," she continued, tone oblivious, eyes knowing. "Once she is dead, you will be free. Perhaps then you will come to your senses and come back with me."

His head was pounding again, going _dead, dead, dead._ It made for an interesting contrast to the yawning void opening underneath his heart.

"Oh, but do not worry. I will make her death as quick and as painless as possible. It is the least I can do... For a friend."

The last of his good sense shattered on that hideous promise. He rose from his seat, slapping shaking hands upon the table. " _I will murder you._ "

Her eyebrows flicked upwards. "Rude."

"You wanted to anger me, and you have done it," he snapped. "Betula, if you dare touch a single hair on her head..."

She stared at him in silence, expression unchanged. After some time, she tilted her head in thought. "What if I let you go?"

He stilled.

"Oh? Are we interested?" She leaned closer. "What if I helped you leave. Hmm?"

"I'm not going—"

"Not home. There is no point if you do not come willingly. Not for me." She rested her chin in her hands. "I could take that collar off, find you passage off the island. You could run away again, hide from us for another seventy years if you wanted to. I would not mind."

His hand flew to the collar, lightly touching the rune carved into the central stone. To be free again, away from this place and its treatment of his sex...

 _No._ He knew better. Fae did not do favors, they made deals. He waited.

"Would it matter if she died then?"

There it was, the price of doing business. He slapped his hand back onto the table. "It does."

Her brows jerked upwards again. "It does?"

He said nothing.

She, too, was silent for a moment. At length, she pursed her lips. "Are you really so attached to that girl?"

"I-It isn't about attachment. She has done nothing wrong, she doesn't—"

" _Nothing wrong_? Is she not the one that enslaved you?"

He came up short, unsure how to respond. Unsure what his response was.

Whatever she read into his silence, she must have found amusing, because another hideous grin stretched across her face. "You say you are not one of us, yet here you are, falling for your captor like in the old tales. I did not realize you were so... _Sentimental_."

"That isn't what I—" he hissed, face hot. "Don't project such inane fantasies onto me!"

Her grin slowly faded into the barest hint of a smile, though her eyes remained full of mirth. "Perhaps... I will not."

He stared at her, stunned. "You... Will not?"

Her expression turned thoughtful. "Well, if you are so very fond of Lena... I would so hate to upset my most favorite cousin."

The hairs on the back of his neck stood at full attention, the muscles beneath wound tight. He squinted at her. What game was this? He did not trust it, whatever it was.

"It is just as well, I suppose." She sighed. "They are so demanding, and so very, very rude. I do not like it."

 _Was_ this a game? Was he meant to respond? He eyed her warily. Never in his life had he known the Fae to act with anything approaching benevolence. There had to be some kind of trick here, some catch he wasn't seeing.

Her gaze slid away from him and across the room, settling on the large windows overlooking the city. "Decisions, decisions."

Assuming she was being sincere and not simply toying with him, as unlikely as that was... Something he had said, or something she had seen, had changed her mind. What was it?

"Well!" she chirped, startling him. "The sun is much lower than I would like, and so I must end our time together." She rose from her seat. "This has been a most pleasant visit, despite your best efforts."

He sneered at her before he could catch himself.

"Always so gracious," she drawled, shaking out her skirts. Once satisfied with their drape, she turned to look at him again. "I will think on it. There is still some time."

Was there? Their enemies were already in motion, and expected to be victorious in only three weeks. "How much time?"

"Just enough," she said, weaving around the table and heading for the door. She tossed him a final smile over her shoulder. "Good luck, Raum. May we meet again."

He watched her round the corner into the hallway. The sound of the door closing behind her did not comfort him nearly as much as he hoped it would.

Quickly, quietly, he rose and padded to the door. There was no sign of Betula, no remnant of her magic. A quick peek outside confirmed that she had left, her tall, silver-white form now well down the path to the main road.

Returning to the sitting room, he frowned down at the spiraling scratches left in the table by Betula's idle claws. He had been certain she had come to drag him back home, a scenario he had feared ever since Lena had told him there was a Fae in Elgia. Yet, it seemed that had not been her goal, whatever hypotheticals she had tossed about.

So... What _was_ that? What had she wanted? And why did he feel like she got it without him noticing?

Replaying the conversation in his head only confused him further. It was his refusal to sacrifice Lena that had changed something, obviously, but... What? And why? All that talk about not wanting to hurt him was utter nonsense, of course; it was more likely that she had a new idea or plan, based on what she had learned today.

So what, exactly, did she learn?

_"Are you really so attached to that girl?"_

That Lena was a weakness.

 _"_ Nothing wrong _? Is she not the one that enslaved you?"_

That her life meant more to him than freedom.

_"...here you are, falling for your captor like in the old tales."_

That he was a _pathetic old fool_.

Suddenly awash in most uncomfortable heat, he found himself trying to avert his gaze from nothing in particular.

He had little experience in affairs of the heart. To love (or lust) was to be vulnerable, and a childhood among the Fae had taught him to never, ever be vulnerable. It was much easier—much _safer_ —to live a life of the mind, eschewing all platonic and romantic companionship. You could not be betrayed by those you did not trust to begin with.

Thus, he had spent most of the last week in a state of awkward uncertainty, for while he surely felt _something_ towards Lena, he had no name for it. Without clear memories to reference on the matter, he was left to reason it out on his own, armed only with cold intellect and some vague ideas gleaned from fiction and theater.

Such an approach was doomed to failure, of course. You could not 'reason' such a thing, no matter how much data you gathered or what methodology you came up with. There was no way to be objective about something so very subjective. In the end, he had needed a second opinion from an outside observer, and Betula, of all people, had given it to him.

However, what Betula called attachment, he called _addiction_. Through Lena, he had finally tasted the forbidden, felt the comfort another's affection could provide. He was hooked now, unable to deny himself such wonders any longer. Indeed, he was grimly certain that Lena could set him free and he would still be caught, bound by nothing more than her warmth.

"Falling for my captor..." he mumbled, absently running his thumb along the silver ring around its neighbor. _What a pathetic creature I am._

* * *

Having bullied the rest of them into letting her pay for everything once again, Maija was given license to choose what establishment the group visited. End result, Lena found herself in a tavern that did not in any way look, sound, feel, smell, or taste like a tavern.

To begin with, the place was suspiciously clean; she had yet to find a dust bunny lurking underfoot or a stray hair in her drink. The tables were free of graffiti, and as far as she could tell, none had been broken and hastily glued back together at any point, let alone recently. Over half the drinks were named something silly and none of them had a price attached. The weirdest thing of all? They had been here for nearly two hours and no one had started a fight yet. Maybe that was why the owner had welcomed them inside when they walked in and hadn't spent the whole afternoon trying to chase them back out again.

It was only natural that she would feel horribly out of place and wary on top of that. This kind of atmosphere was far more threatening than the ramshackle menace of her usual haunts. There, you knew what to expect, and when someone threw a punch at you, you knew what they were about. In a place like this, people used words, and words were so much harder to predict, dodge, and counter.

The _ker-thunk_ of their latest round of drinks arriving yanked her her out of her thoughts. She smiled absentmindedly at the pretty serving boy who brought it. This part of the experience, at least, was more than alright. As he turned to leave, she took note of his hair; waist-length and braided, it was nearly as dark as Raum's. _Raum with long hair... I think I like it._

An upswell of guilt swallowed her at the thought of his name. Poor Raum. She'd been a total ass, dredging up bad memories and leaving him to stew in them like that. She hadn't thought... She didn't _think_ , was the problem. Always was.

Whatever had happened to him back there, in the Fae Lands... She hoped he wasn't reliving it all while she was away.

Distracted by this gloomy line of thought, she was completely unprepared for Rael's sudden slap on her upper back. The sheer brute force of it almost knocked her drink right out of her hands. "—and Lena! Got in her first big bash, and won!"

Had then been talking about her? Shit, she hadn't been paying attention. "I've been in battle before!"

"Sure, but not a big one like that!" She wrapped her arm  
around her in an unreasonably tight side-hug. "We're all real proud of you, you know?"

She flushed. "Oh."

Maija knocked their mugs together. "My sister, the kingdom-killer!"

She sat hers down before she really did spill it. "We didn't _kill_ it! We just changed it a bit. For the better. Probably."

Maija shrugged. "Same difference."

"Close enough," agreed Rael. They clunked their mugs together, laughing ridiculously.

"Don't tell me you went through that much work," muttered Saen, "for 'probably?'"

Lena bit back a much nastier retort. "I mean, it's all up to Door now. I'm sure she'll make it work, but... You know. Probably."

Her sister rolled her eyes, but said no more.

She frowned into her drink. Her and Saen's relationship had always been a bit strained. She tried not to let it bother her, but there were days when she really wished it were different.

_"You're both so busy playing 'good big sister' to this little brat, you're letting her get away with everything! It's disgusting!"_

_"Oh, and now you're all against me again. I'm the only one that ever tells her no, and that makes me the villain."_

She winced at the memory. Saen'd been so angry last night. Angry at Raum for misbehaving, angry at Lena for not keeping him under control, angry at their sisters for not keeping Lena under control. Thing was, even she came off a bit hateful, she wasn't _all_ wrong.

She was the baby of the family. Not just the youngest daughter, but the youngest by a whole seven years. Delighted as her mother had been with her birth, her eldest three sisters had been even more so, all absolutely determined to love and spoil her rotten from jump.

Saen had been different. Saying Lena was already too spoiled and didn't need anyone else adding to it, she'd made it a point to rein her in, make her act right, not get too full of herself. She wasn't actually the only person to tell Lena 'no,' of course, but she was the most likely.

Much as she'd hated all the negative attention when she was young, Lena couldn't really blame Saen for being that way. Honestly, she'd been almost terrifying in her rambunctiousness back then; mother had joked that she was clearly meant to be triplets, just never got around to dividing properly. Probably for the best there was at least one adult watching her so very carefully.

She eyed Saen sidelong, watched her quietly sip from her own mug. Seemed calmer today, at least. Less agitated. Other than a few snarky comments at Lena's expense, she'd been mostly quiet.

_"She is working with them."_

She trusted Raum. Really, she did. She'd seen firsthand how good he was at ferreting out secret plans and plots, knew how much of his awful reputation had come from people who really had been up to something before he turned them out. So if he said there was something to see here, there was something to see, absolutely.

But... Was this how a woman ready to start a violent overthrow should be acting? Because Lena'd been in such a position before, and it was not a comfortable one. It was constant guilt, constant nerves, constant paranoia. It was avoiding every social engagement you could, just so you didn't give yourself away through your guilty behavior. It was praying every night to the Holy Mother, begging her to forgive you if you'd gotten it wrong and chose the wrong side. _It was horrible_ , and she didn't know how someone feeling all those same things could just sit among family she'd have to get rid of later and quietly sip her drink.

 _"Even if you do not want to believe it."_.

Her eyes flicked to Saen again, who was now watching Maija and Rael's banter over the rim of her mug. _I admit I don't like you very much, Saen, but... Please don't be a traitor. Please._

She felt a warm, plump hand cover her own. Startled, she looked up to find Noa's dark eyes gazing intently into hers. "Derry would have been proud, too."

"Y-You think so?"

"I know so," Noa answered, eyes crinkling at the corners. "You should visit his grave. He would want to hear from you."

She dropped her gaze back down to her drink as she tried to control the lump in her throat. It was hard to go up there, see the marker, know what it meant. But yeah, she should go. Maybe she'd bring Raum. He would've liked Raum.

She felt Noa pat her hand before drawing away again.

Once fairly sure she wouldn't just start bawling into her drink, she looked back back up to find Maija grinning lopsidedly at her. "Soooo... When did you take up reading?"

When did she what? She tilted her head in question.

"When we came in, you had all those books on the floor. Yours? Or...?"

Shit! She hadn't had time to hide anything before they came in. "Er. Well, it's..."

"'Course they're not hers," laughed Rael. "No pictures!"

Her defense was neatly cut off by Saen's horrified hiss. "You are letting him _read_?"

She winced. This was what she had been afraid of. Maybe she could talk Saen down before she went into a full-on conniption. "Look, I know, but he—"

" _Lena._ We have these rules for a _reason_. They're not meant to _read_ , they're meant to _serve_. If you let them do anything more, they get ideas, and that is the last thing anyone needs."

"Oh, here we go," muttered Rael, leaning back in her chair. "This is your fault, Maija."

The already thin line of Saen's mouth became even thinner at that. "Do you even know _what_ he's reading? What if he is learning how to take off that special little collar you're so proud of? What if he attacks you again? What if you don't survive this time? _What if he comes after the rest of us?_ "

Lena winced. She didn't, really; all that stuff was way beyond her, and not all that interesting either. Didn't matter—she trusted the mage she'd consulted up in Illvey, and more than that, she trusted Raum. "He's not! It's just... It's alchemy and stuff. Botany, um. Other things, not related to that. Look, he's not an evil person—"

Saen's eyes grew round, the whites stark in the dim light of the tavern. " _Alchemy_?"

She threw up her hands, horribly aware of how much deeper she was digging herself and Raum. "Nothing deadly! He's—He just did a lot of research, back in Illvey. He's really very smart—"

" _Research?!_ " Saen hissed. "I cannot believe you brought something like that here!"

" _He's not doing anything!_ " she shouted, only realizing her mistake when the rest of the room quieted. She cleared her throat nervously, avoiding Maija's pointed stare.

"What did I tell you last night? If you can't keep such a thing under control, you don't need to have it at all."

The burn started at her heart this time, hot and sharp. " _Will you stop trying to take him away from me?_ He's fine! I have him under control just fine!"

Maija slapped a hand on the table between them. "Saen, shut up, who cares. Lukos reads all the time, you've never accused him of wanting to murder everybody."

Saen sniffed. "Betting rags and erotica are hardly dangerous. The only thing that worthless creature will ever destroy is your fortune."

Maija frowned warningly, first at her, then at Rael, who hadn't been able to muffle her laughter in time.

Noa rubbed at the bridge of her nose. "Lena. Perhaps you should do something to ease her worries."

She swallowed a growl as she met Saen's glare with one of her own. "I don't know what I can do when all she does is tell me to get rid of him, which I'm _not going to do._ "

" _Lena._ "

"You ruined everything," sang Rael to Maija.

"Shut up," sang Maija to Rael.

Saen's lip curled in disgust. "I see the problem here."

"There's no problem," Lena returned hotly.

Her sister's eyes narrowed. "It is because of the way mother treated that thing that sired you."

She was on her feet before she was truly aware of what she was doing. The screech of her chair being pushed back seemed to come from miles away. " _Shut up._ "

"Sisters," warned Noa.

"Mother was too soft-hearted," Saen continued, her eyes boring into Lena's. "She should have had him beaten daily, rather than allowing such flagrant disrespect to herself and everyone else—"

She slammed a fist on the table. "Shut up _right now._ "

Noa covered her fist with a hand, her eyes pleading. "Lena!"

She halted, somewhat ashamed. "I'm sorry, it's just—"

Saen's snarl became more pronounced, a mockery of a smile. "—a _thief_ , he was a _thief_ and mother still allowed him to run rampant—"

"Saen!" Noa hissed.

It did little good. "—and now you've brought something so much _worse_. What are you trying to do, get someone killed?"

 _I'm trying not to hate you, you awful bitch!_ " _He isn't going to hurt anyone!_ Stop saying that!"

Something glittered in Saen's eyes, cold and hateful. "He should be put down. You can bury him next to your worthless—"

Lena made a grab for the neck of her robe.

Noa shot up from her seat, startling everyone at the table and beyond; she was not a small woman to begin with, and had inherited Oraela's talent for taking up an entire room with personality alone as well. " _That is enough!_ " she roared.

The flames of Lena rage sputtered and died immediately. She sank back into her seat, cold shame dousing the smoldering ashes. Saen, looking fairly ashamed herself, leaned back in her chair, arms crossed defensively.

The eldest stared down her nose at them, looming large and indignant over the table. "Both of you. Look around."

Lena did so. The place was full of eyes, wide and staring. Even the dark-haired serving boy from earlier gawked at them, all social mores completely forgotten.

" _Lena._ "

She jumped. "Er, yes?"

"This is not a place for brawling."

"R-Right," she muttered, eyes now fixed on the table. She noticed Maija was missing. Likely run off to head off any complaints from the owner.

"And Saen—I don't know what has gotten into you tonight, but _get it back out_. Whatever dangers Lena might be in the middle of, saying such things will not help."

Saen was silent. Lena fought the urge to peek at her horrible, hateful face.

"Good job, idiots," grumbled Maija, returning to her seat. "I still have to do business here, you know. I wanted to show off my very good and accomplished sisters, not a couple of angry drunks."

"You had to ask about the books," muttered Rael.

* * *

The familiar clatter of the front door had him up and on his feet in an instant. He met her there almost immediately, much to her surprise. "Raum? It's dark out. Why're all the lamps—"

"Shh," he hissed. "Keep your voice low."

She obliged him with a whisper. "What's wrong?"

"More than I would like," he muttered. He opened the door again and took another look outside. It was just as dark and still as it had been several minutes ago. "No one came with you?"

"No, left my sisters on the road. Was going to wait here for a bit so Saen wouldn't see me go up to the main house." She peered up at him, eyes filled with concern. "Hey, what's wrong?"

She smelled faintly of alcohol, but her hands were steady and her speech without slur. That would have to do. He took her hand in his own, pulling her towards the sitting room. "Come. We must speak."

She offered no resistance as he pulled her into the sitting room, where the one lit lamp in the house sat squarely in the middle of the now-damaged table. As expected, she rounded it to sit in her usual seat; it was pathetic how much better seeing that made him feel. She leaned forward, the dim light of the lamp deepening her worried frown. "Are you alright?"

He quickly knelt next to her, close enough to make whispers more than adequate for communication. It took him a moment to gather his thoughts, as he had spent more time thinking about what he needed to tell her than how to do so. "I... Received a visitor, earlier."

She froze. "Ulla?"

"No. Worse. Did you happen to speak to anyone besides family today?"

She winced.

As he suspected.

"Don't look at me like that—I remembered what you said! About not getting close, I mean. We didn't talk about anything important, she just told me about the Fae."

That explained her sudden certainty of his particular pedigree. Betula _would_ think it great fun to expose him in such a way. Horrible woman.

She squirmed guiltily. "Didn't go up there just to do that. I went to talk to mother, but Saen was there, so I couldn't, and Betula wanted to talk again, and..." She paused, realization flashing in her eyes. "Wait, did she come here?"

He nodded. "She likely scented me on you when you visited her earlier."

Her mouth dropped open. " _Scented?_ Like a hound?"

A delightfully unflattering comparison. He would remember it. "It is similar. Most full-blooded Fae possess the ability. I should have warned you." He would have, had he not forgotten it himself.

"O-Oh." He thought he saw embarrassment flash briefly across her face, but it passed too quickly to judge.

No matter, there were more important things to talk about. He leaned forward. "You must never speak to that woman again."

She started. "Never? What did she... Did she do something to you?"

"No. I am not the one in danger, you are. The traitors have been soliciting her for help in their plot to overthrow Oraela, and I fear she may aid them yet."

Her face paled noticeably in the dim lamplight. "What? Mother said she was a good friend!"

He shook his head. "Betula does not make friends, she gathers pawns. To be a 'friend' of Betula is to be a tool of House Arborea, used and disposed of at will. In this case, a freshly installed Tanel may make for a better tool than Oraela."

She stared at him in horrified silence, her expression similar to the one she had worn this morning, when he had implicated her sister.

Though he sympathized with her hurt, he was terrified she did not see the danger. He reached out and grabbed her forearm with a trembling hand, desperate to make her understand. "I know she has put on a good face for you. That is what she _does_ , and she is very good at it. I do not possess such charm, I know, but Lena... You must believe me when I say she is even more deserving of the name 'Viper' than I."

That seemed to jar her out of it. She glanced down at his still-shaking hand. "A-Alright, Raum. I believe you."

He relaxed his grip slightly. "Good."

She frowned at the floor, eyebrows drawn down into a deep V of concentration.

If she believed him, what was she thinking about so hard? "Lena?"

She was quiet for a moment, eyes staring through the floor. When next she raised them, they looked more like Oraela's than her own. "How do you and Betula know each other?"

He stiffened. He knew the question was coming, of course, but that hadn't made him any better prepared for it.

She gently pulled herself from his grip. "Why would she come here? Why would she tell you so much? And..." She laid her hand on his arm instead. "Why are you so afraid?"

He swallowed. Here it was, then. There would be no more deflection, no more begging her to leave it alone. He would have to tell her. She needed to know the risks involved. Still, it was hard to begin.

When he did not answer right away, she reached out to stroke his cheek. "I know you asked me not to dig, but... If she's against us, then I should know what we're facing. Right?"

He leaned into her touch, savoring the feel of her warmth against his skin. He had missed it dearly these last few hours, chilled as he was by Betula's words. _Addict._

She smiled lopsidedly, and her gaze was her own once more. "M'sorry. I know it's hard."

The ache was back in his throat again. He tried to swallow it down, only barely succeeding; his words came rough and low. "Betula... Is my cousin. The daughter of my mother's sister. Allegedly."

"Your mother was the Fae?"

"I... Believe so. I was not told... I only have rumor and conjecture, no hard evidence. Nothing was left after..." He trailed off, uncertain how to continue from there.

Her other hand came to cup his other cheek. "S'okay, take your time."

The hurt traveled down to his chest, even as he relaxed further into her hold. **_Addict._** "You need not coddle me so."

A shadow of her usual grin appeared. "I like to coddle you." She ran her hands down his neck, over his shoulders, along his arms. Taking his hands into her own, she pulled them into her lap, lightly running her thumbs over his fingers. "You don't have to tell me everything if you don't want to. Alright?"

He stared down at their joined hands, trembling with unnamed feeling. He had thought himself already used to her touch, but the revelations of earlier had intensified the sensation hundredfold. "G-Give me a moment."

"'Many as you want."

Fortunately, he did not need as many as he feared he would. "Fae..." He paused, unsure how to go about this. "Fae are not particularly fecund."

She tilted her head slightly. "'Fecund?'"

"Prolific."

That earned him another degree of tilt and no more.

He cleared his throat. "Fertile."

Her eyes brightened as understanding dawned. Once it fully arrived, her expression became far too keen. "Oh?"

He looked away. "F-For whatever reason, their fertility is quite low, at least among their own. Furthermore, severe enmity between the Houses prevents inter-House connections from forming, and you can only cross so many branches in a family tree before you begin to encounter trouble, biological and legal.

"Thus, nearly every House relies on half-Fae to continue their bloodlines. House Arborea is one of two exceptions; members of that House are so long-lived, there is little need for such measures. Their half-breeds are largely... Unwanted."

She frowned. "Unwanted?"

He was powerless to stop the rueful smile that formed on his lips. "Fae are creatures of pride and vanity; they take offense to everything, even the mere existence of other people. Houses forced to rely on half-Fae see them as unfortunate necessities, to be used sparingly. House Arborea, who has no use for such, would rather not see them at all."

Her frown deepened. "How did you come about, then?"

"I do not know the full story, only that my mother left the Fae Lands to be with my father. I assume they must have been fond of one another, to go so far." He frowned at the flickering lamp, uncertain and uncomfortable. As a boy, his attempts to learn more about his parents had bore little fruit; it was impossible to investigate while under the care of those who had erased them in the first place. What little he did know had come from half-heard whispers behind his back and the occasional slip of his caretaker's tongue.

She bit her lip. He got the impression she wanted to ask, but was afraid to do so. "They were murdered. I was taken."

She winced. "But why go that far? If she just left and never came back, what was she doing to anybody?"

He shook his head. "All matches must be approved by the Queen. For her to leave her House behind, enter an unapproved match, and have a child by that man... It was an insult to her House, her Queen, and her kind. Such arrogance could not be forgiven."

She seemed to be taking it harder than he. He supposed she would, family-oriented as she was. "Do you remember them?"

"No. I was very young when they took me. Days old." It was a small mercy. He could not long for what he did not remember.

"But why would they take you? If they don't want half-Fae, then why didn't they..." she trailed off, unwilling or unable to finish such a morbid thought.

"I do not know what saved me then. I doubt it was anything so benevolent as mercy. If I were to guess, they may have sensed my potential as a mage, or judged me useful in some other way."

She said nothing, only clasped his hands in hers.

He took that as his cue to continue. "I know I said half-breeds are rare for that House, but I was not the only one around at that time. There were three of us, all orphans by similar circumstances. Having no immediate family, we were sponsored by the closest relatives that would have us. Betula's mother was mine."

She perked up slightly. "So she's like your sister, then?"

"No. I was a diversion, not a sibling. We were never equals."

She deflated again. "What about the other half-Fae?"

He smirked bitterly. "We did not get along. I was no more pleasant to be around then than I am now."

She scrunched up her nose at that. It lightened his mood slightly. " _Raum._ "

Pulling his hands from hers, he raised them in surrender. "It is the truth. And..." He felt that small sliver of levity slip away. "We were in competition."

Her expression leveled out. "Competition?"

"For approval. To be seen as legitimate members of the House, not... What we were." Freaks. Oddities. Stains on the House's name.

"Did you... Do okay?"

His heart felt heavy and cold, a lump of iron in his chest. "I did very well."

"You say that like you wish you didn't."

He wished no such thing.

Something in his answering silence must have disturbed her, as she moved even closer. "Did something happen to you?"

"No, it..." He looked away. "It happened to them."

An old memory, dusty, dark, and vague.

"I was... Very young. Fifteen, sixteen? I skipped lessons that day, wandered out into the woods to waste time. I didn't know... I knew there were intra-House tensions, of course. At that time, there was a schism between... I don't know what it was about, only... One half beset the other, and..."

_The house had been so quiet when he returned. Not the still silence of an empty house, but the heavy, dreadful silence of a place that had seen something terrible and could not speak of it. A familiar sound by then, of course; it was only the magnitude that had been unusual._

_He saw no blood, no bodies. No physical evidence of anything untoward, not even a sign of struggle._ _The proof was in the absence. Not just the absence of the people themselves, but of all evidence of their existence. Portraits, personal items, certain pieces of furniture used by only one or two people... All gone, as if they had never been there in the first place._

 _They had all been smiling, those left over. Not smirks or sneers, but genuine smiles, relieved smiles, happy smiles. It was a delight to come home to such a_ clean _house, they said. It had been so_ cluttered _before, and they were ready for a_ fresh start _._

_"Congratulations, Raum!" Betula had cried, wrapping him up in her arms. "Everyone agrees, you are one of us. Isn't that wonderful?"_

_She had smelled of woodsmoke._

Someone suddenly seized him by the shoulders, shaking him lightly. He jolted at the unexpected contact. "Ah—?"

Lena goggled at him, her eyes as bright and round as twin moons. "Raum? Are... You were, um. You weren't with me for a minute there."

He blinked, still disoriented from the sudden change of scenery. "I wasn't? I... My apologies, I was..."

She grimaced, and her grip on him tightened slightly. "Maybe you shouldn't tell me so much. I think I kind of get it, so... Just let it go now, okay? Don't think about it anymore."

He was more than happy to accept such direction. "O-Of course."

She studied his face intently, her own lined with worry. Her hands slipped down over his arms, kneading them. "Are you gonna be alright?"

He looked away again, embarrassed to have such earnest care directed at him. Addicted or not, his tolerance for such was still fairly low. "I will be fine." A glance back at her anxious face made his heart ache. "Truly."

She looked doubtful. Still, she let him go, and settled back into her seat. "That's why you left, huh?"

"I could not stay in such a place, with such people. I spent the next few years learning the languages and customs of the North, so that I could disappear into the human world once I escaped.

"When the time came, I left under cover of night, making my way to the closest border of Blackwarl. I was nearly there when they caught up to me."

She bit her lip. "Your House?"

"My House, and the Queen's own soldiers. As disgraceful as it was for me to desert my kin, turning my back on the Fae in general is an offense of the highest order. I was not meant to survive the encounter."

Her brows shot up again. "But you did!"

"Not for lack of effort. They hounded me all the way to the border with bow and spell." He resisted the urge to feel his own shoulder. He didn't want her to fret over a wound long since healed. "Once I was past, they could not follow. The trees of the forest did much to shield me after that."

"They didn't cross?"

"They wouldn't." He smirked, remembering their rage and fear-filled eyes. "Their loss in the great war had long-lasting effects on the Fae psyche. To leave their home is to risk an ignoble death at the hand of their supposed inferiors. Few are willing to risk it, even in the name of the Queen.

"I spent the next thirty years in the Northern kingdoms, staying as far away as possible from that cursed place. I would still be there, if I had not received the letter."

"The letter?"

"A letter from the head of the House at that time, forgiving me of my transgressions and asking me to come back. To my _family_." He shivered. "For them to do so thirty years after my escape... I took it as a threat. The North was no longer safe. That is when I left for Illvey; I knew they would not follow me to the very center of the human coalition." He frowned down at the marks in the table. "Betula is the first Fae I have seen in seventy years."

She was silent for several minutes. "She wanted to take you back."

"She did. I would not go."

"She didn't try to force you?"

"That is not her way."

She quieted again. Curious, he glanced her way again; her pensive frown and crossed arms suggested some very morose thoughts indeed. "Did she tell you about her part in the coup so you'd want to leave, you think?"

It was the inverse: she had offered to help him leave so that she could join the coup. He decided against sharing that information, as it would invite questions he wasn't quite ready to answer.

"So if we lose," she growled, "not only will Tanel and Ulla try to take you, but Betula too." She slammed her fist down onto her own knee. "Why is everyone trying to take you away from me?!"

He coughed. "I assure you this has never happened to me before. Most are very happy to see me go."

He had hoped she might rise to the bait, but she remained downcast. "Raum, maybe... I should let you go."

He blinked. "What?"

She seemed to wilt before his eyes, slumping into her seat. "If you staying here means you could be hurt, or killed, or taken back to the Fae..."

"We talked about this, I cannot esca—"

"I can get you a ship back," she interrupted, loud and irritable. When he drew back slightly, she softened her tone. "No one'll touch you, I promise. You can go and hide from the Fae again, and be safe from the others, too."

He couldn't believe what he was hearing. Was this not the same woman who had attacked a kingdom on the condition she could have him in exchange? The one with the obsession that had lasted a decade or more? "I-I thought you wanted to keep me for yourself."

She looked away. "I told you. I never want you hurt."

He valued her life more than his freedom; she valued his own more than her claim. The Raum of only a week before would have rolled his eyes at such overwrought, ridiculous tripe. The Raum of now... "What about you? This coming attack, will you be—"

She smiled a very melancholy smile. "I'll be alright. I get what's going on now, so maybe I can head it off. Might not seem like it, but I can get people to listen to me when I try, and if they don't... I can fight."

That must be true. Her role in the fall of Illvey was ample evidence of such. Still, that had been a meticulously planned surprise attack. This time, she would be playing defense, already at a disadvantage. "Lena..."

"So don't worry about me. It'll work out, one way or another." She gazed at him wistfully, adoration plain on her face. "Gonna miss you, though."

His breath caught.

"Only man I ever wanted." Her smile softened. "Don't know if that'll ever change."

There would be no running this time.

"I won't go," he blurted. _I am a fool._

Her smile vanished instantly. "What?"

"I won't go," he repeated before his good sense could stop him. _Absolute idiot. Pathetic cretin._ "Set me free if you like, but I will stay."

She blinked rapidly, apparently stunned. "Why?"

He was absolutely not going to say why. _Coward._ "It doesn't matter."

"You don't have t—"

"I won't go," he said once more. "You let me have my power again, I can protect myself from any would-be captors. Do not fret for me."

She sat upright, reaching for him. "Raum, no, listen—"

He grabbed her wrist before she could touch him. " _No._ I won't leave you to deal with this alone. Keep me or let me go, the end result is the same."

She halted. Flickers of conflicting emotion crossed her face, chief among them shock and confusion. "You... Don't want to be free?"

"I said no such thing," he muttered, suddenly unable to look her in the eye. His ears felt hot. "Don't be foolish."

After a moment's silence, he felt her lightly pull her wrist back. He let her go. "With that settled—"

Immediately and without warning, she seized his wrist instead, pulling him towards her. Embarrassment now overridden by shock, he looked into her face again to find her completely changed, as radiant and joyful as he had ever seen her. "You want to keep being mine, huh?"

Now everything else felt hot. "I _just said_ don't be foolish!"

She only laughed and pulled him closer.

"It's not—!" he squawked. "I cannot leave you to— _there is a threat_ —"

She brought him close enough to press their foreheads together, her mirthful eyes staring deep into his own. " _Raum._ "

"I already t-told you my reasoning!" he cried, trying to squirm out of her grip. When that proved impossible, he set to prying her fingers off with his other hand. "You are only hearing what you want to hear!"

Grinning, she seized that wrist, too. "No, I know what a lying Raum looks like."

"H-How is that?"

"Adorable." Her mouth was on his before he could even think to pull back. His will to fight—to deny—evaporated entirely, leaving him relaxed and pliant, completely surrendered to her will.

Breaking the kiss, she pulled back slightly, grin still in place. "Not sure I like kissing half as much as you do."

"I-I may have changed my mind," he grumbled, without heat. "Let me go."

"Too bad. Changed mine too." She let go of his wrists, instead opting to to thread her fingers through his hair; he felt her pull slightly, tilting his face up to hers. "Guess I'll keep you forever, then."

 _Forever..._ He swallowed. "That is your p-prerogative."

There was a high buzz from the window.

Everything went stark white.

_**CRACK!** _

The next minute made little sense to him, all motion and movement with no way to get context. His vision was blocked by afterimages, his hearing distorted with ringing, his nose and mouth filled with a strange metallic smell; the only sense that still seemed to work properly was touch, as he could feel Lena pushing up against him.

"What was that?!" she cried, pressing even harder.

By degrees, the afterimages faded away. A glint in the dark resolved into Lena's knife; she had apparently moved to shield him, drawing her weapon. Disoriented as he was, he felt a surge of... Something or other, for her.

"Are they here?! The Fae?"

Had Betula lied to him, left to get help to take him away? Could they have—

Wait, no. That smell was so very familiar.

He scrambled to stand up on shaky legs. "My rune!"

Lena's head whipped around, her choppy hair grazing his chin. "Your _what_?"

He laid his hands on her shoulders, gently pushing her to the side. "I laid trap runes at the windows before you came—"

"Traps?" she squeaked. "You set _traps_?"

"I don't know if you've noticed, but a great many people would like to see one or both of us dead!" He stumbled around her, set on the smokiest of the three windows. "I did not want to risk a surprise attack."

"Traps," she whispered behind him. "Oh, Raum..."

The smell of charred flesh became stronger as he approached. He had definitely caught someone at it, then—the rune had been calibrated for living creatures above a certain size. Though he doubted whoever it was would be ready for a fight after _that_ , he called some energy forth, ready for another blow.

He felt Lena press against his back. "Be careful."

"O-Of course." He slowly pulled the cloth curtain away from the windowsill.

It would need a little work in the future, lightly splintered and blackened as it was. The rune had not been his strongest work, as the spell was meant to deter, not kill. He cast about, looking for his victim.

Lena's head peeked out from under his arm. "All the plants are thrashed... They must've run off."

Indeed, the grasses and flowering plants beneath the window had been broken and flattened during the interloper's escape. He gazed out further, but no collapsed or retreating figure could be seen. He let go of his building spell.

He was still looking when Lena pulled her head in again. He was caught completely off guard when she suddenly grabbed the back of his collar and pulled; he stumbled backward, dropping the curtain as he did so. "Wh—?!"

She spun him around to face her. Though he could not see her face in the dim light of the room, he could tell she was upset from her stiff posture. "Raum, _what were you thinking_? Setting a _trap_?!"

He drew back. "What? I... You said to protect myself!"

"I did, but..." She growled. "Saen keeps pushing me to get rid of you because you're too dangerous, you know!"

He blinked. "She does?"

"She keeps saying you're going to hurt or kill someone, and..." She sighed. "You definitely just hurt someone."

How was he supposed to protect himself if he couldn't hurt anyone? He... No. No, she was correct. It was one thing for him to use his power against an obvious, head-on attack. A trap could easily be triggered by an innocent. He rubbed his chin, suddenly feeling quite ill. His fear had occluded his good sense yet again.

"Urgh!" she yelled, scrubbing her hands through her hair. She stamped her foot a moment later, a physical exclamation mark.

He swallowed. "I did not think... I was only..."

She sighed. "No, it's... Alright. Alright, maybe it's not that bad. I'll go have a look." She spun on her heel and headed for the hallway.

"Wait!" he cried, just managing to grab the back of her shirt. "Don't. It is dark, we are hunted, and whoever that was, they were either coming in or spying on us."

She halted. "Spying?"

"The rune went off because they touched the windowsill. Why would they do so unless they were trying to get in or listening closely?"

She paused. "So they heard you're half-Fae?"

"It... It's possible, yes."

She suddenly grabbed him, her voice full of abject horror. "They heard I gave you back your full power! Raum, if that gets out—"

Then Saen would get her wish. "I understand. But... It is too late now."

They contemplated this in silence.

"Oh," she said, softly. "I was supposed to go up to the main house tonight."

"Don't go," he insisted. "Wait until daybreak, I beg you."

"Alright, but... It's gonna be hard to sleep, knowing someone was out there."

He hummed agreement. "I do not think it wise for both of us to lie down at the same time."

"Take shifts, huh? Alright, sounds good." She walked over to the table, bending over to pick up the lamp. "I can take fir... Wait, what happened to my table?"

He sighed inwardly. Betula continued to be a plague, even now. "Let me explain."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry that took so long. Been stressed and tired (who hasn't?), and getting back on the writing wagon after a month off is much harder than I expected it to be. 
> 
> Updates from here on out won't be as fast and furious as they were in 2020. This is half due to real life stuff and half because a lot is set to happen next. 
> 
> Next chapter will probably be about as long as this one.
> 
> Three more to go!

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote ~75% of the first few chapters on my phone, so there may be some strange formatting at work. I've tried to correct it before posting, but I'm an idiot, so I'm sure some got through anyway.
> 
> I would like to write a series with multiple pairings. I might actually manage it, too. Let's find out together.


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